The Prince as Leader

[Jimmy]
"The tunnel is a smelly sewer that runs under the city. You can get to it where it flows out near the bay. And then you wade thru the water for a long time. You'd never know where was the right place to get out, tho. Not without me. And you dont want to go in when it's been raining. You might not make it. You're even shorter than I am, I'll bet

Daggda's tone softens. "Well then, Jimmy, if I can get you to the tunnel entrance by the bay, you're going to be my eyes through the tunnels. And let's hope it doesn't rain, eh?" Turning to Bracht, she asks, "The way you took out of the city- was it to the north of the city walls, or near the harbor? It sounds like our best chance of getting in the city is through this tunnel." She carefully avoids the word 'sewer,' not daring to look at the prince.

As the group discusses the bounty that Quill is leaving behind, Ven hesitates to speak his mind, not wanting to appear selfish. Eventually, however, he speak up. "This is only a thought, but it occurs to me that, with Myr gone, I'm the only spellcaster left he doesn't also possess some modicum of martial skills. Given time and constant beating like the one that Sandros got last evening, I think I could learn a thing or two, but we appear to be on a tight schedule. So, I'm throwing this out as an idea: if those bracers will really make even the least competent--like me, for instance--able to shoot with skill, then I think I might be a good candidate for it. First off, I usually have to stay at range as much as possible anyway to use my spell effectively and safely. And secondly, this way I can still help in some situations when I no longer have the strenght to cast. "

"Well, those were my thoughts, but I won't get all bent out of shape if we decide to divide things differently." Ven looks pointedly at Avon.

Decidedly unhappy about the "distance" he felt from Najela during his prayers Andrew is quiet and reflective in teh morning. Shrugging it off as his own fault, perhaps he was distracted, he'd be sure to make a more concerted effort tommorow. Hearing the others in discussion again Andrew joins in.

"I'd be more than happy to have a try with the bracers and bow if no one minds," Andrew says in reply to Daggda's suggestion. "And I'd like to find out what that bracelet does before we throw it away. If it is an evil artifact you can be sure it will meet its end soon!" he adds. "And as far as the tunnel is concerned it sounds as good as anything. We need to get moving and do something about the man who claims himself a Duke."

Andrew's face drops a little at the news of Kalban's departure, he had been hoping to talk a little more with his "old" friend but Andrew understood the responsibility the man felt for his family and no doubt Kalban would be back as soon as possible.

Saddened to see the group breaking down in such a way Andrew couldn't blame a one for thier decisions. "Seperate roads for each, sometimes they join for a time but mostly they veer off again far too soon," he thinks to himself.

To those leaving, "Goodbye my dear friends and some of my newest friends, May Najela watch over you and guide you to saftey and with any luck maybe the future will bring us back together." With a hug and a handshake for each Andrew is ready to head for Squarento.

Andrew extracts the magical item, which was worn as a bracelet by the evil priestess.  He looks at it carefully, noting the indecipherable runes inscribed inside.  He knows that the only way to find out what it does is to put it on, and so, after mumbling a brief prayer for protection, he slips it over his left wrist.

Nothing.

It is a cool steel bracelet, conforming to his wrist.  With a shrug he goes next to see how Ven is doing with the bracers.  Ven is quite comfortable handling the Elven Bow, now that the bracers are on.  As Andrew gets to within about 10 ft of the magic bracers, the bracelet he wears begins to get cold.  It is not a burning cold, merely a lower temperature of the metal of the bracelet.  He experiments by stepping back then closer.  Each time he approaches the magical bracers, the bracelet gets colder. 

He goes toward Tavarak, asking him to draw Dragon's Claw.  Again, as the bracelet gets within 10 ft of the magic sword it gets colder.  This temperature is colder than that felt by the bracers, and Andrew guesses that the magic of the sword is more powerful than that of the bracers.

Andrew takes a turn with the bracers of archery and finds that he is evey bit as skilled with the elven bow as Veneron was.

The Druid and The Mage look at each other, as the bow and arrows pass between them.

Finally all are ready to leave.

"Ah yes," sighs Prince Geodon.  "By all means.. back to civilization!  Which one of these fine horses is mine?"  He knows enough to not even consider asking for either of the warhorses, and his pride does not allow him to consider the mule ... He eyes horses that belong to Avon, Andrew and Veneron.  "We'd make SO much better time getting to Squarento, if I had a mount, yes?"

Tavarak moves to embrace the two women wishing them both well on their journeys, and silently hoping that they each find that inner peace that they are searching for. "Quill, I shall take the greatest of care of this gift that you have given me. Thank you". After the parting the Bard watches the son of Autumleaf, looking at him in a new light, wondering what fate has in store for what Tav has come to view as a tormented soul. As Sandy and the prince run thru the mock combat drills, he can't help but grin to himself, his mind drifting back to the time spent in the practice yard with his own teachers. Tav shakes the memories clear from his head and prepares to make ready for the journey back to the city. He bows slightly to the elf, "My deepest thanks, I shall seek out the princess. If ever I can repay this debt you need only send word". Tavarak bundles his old sword in his pack, on the mule, and slides Dragon's Claw's scabbard loop over the pommel of his saddle.  He mounts Stalwart and hefts his lance.  "Feels good to be back,"  he says as he reaches down to pat his warhorse's neck.  Pointedly he ignores the Prince's comments. 

Bracht lifts Jimmy, setting him astride the mule, and then mounts Mahvros, and scratches his head.  "But I've just LEFT Squarento," he muses with a smile.

Kalban explains to Quill and Myridian that they will all be travelling magically, and that only Lord Amaryss' horse will be needed, so he suggests they sell their mounts to Geodon.  The Dwarven prince readily agrees to buy both horses.  "Annar! " he calls to Daggda, "Bring me that pouch of coins you found among my belongings."  Daggda, however, has made herself busy with her prayers, having anticipated the Prince's "needs".  So the Prince is forced to go and find it himself.  He (over)pays Myr and Quill for the horses and scrambles up on Myr's saddlehorse.

Avon mounts up as well, being sure to secure his pack with its valuable cargo on his horse.  Ven and Andrew are the last to mount, leaving only Dagga on foot.  When her morning commune with Moradin is complete, she is ready to go.

"Oh come ALONG, Annar."  Whines the Prince of Dwarves to the Acolyte.  "I've secured you a horse.  It just would not DO for my second in command to be on foot.... Hurry up... Come along!"

"Coming, your highness," Daggda replies brightly at the closest thing the Prince has come to a compliment. It won't do to have his second in command on foot, but his second in command is an annar, she thinks. Chuckling, she keeps the comment to herself. "And many thanks for the horse."

Daggda eyes the horse suspiciously. She never could understand why humans and elves and such felt the need to -ride- beasts of labor. She had no choice now but to try. Grabbing the reins of what was once Myridian's horse, she whispers crossly, "I can only hope you are as gentle as your former master, and half as flighty." Grabbing the pommel on her tiptoes, she vaults herself on top of the horse -and onto the ground on the opposite side. The others look at her face down on the ground and wonder if she is alive, until a molten stream of dwarven invective erupts from the prone figure. On the second try, she stays in the saddle, somewhat unsteadily.

Tav chuckles at Daggda's encounter with the horse, his mood changing from one of loss of two of the compainions to one of excitement at what is to come in the near future

Seeing the others start off, she wonders how to make her horse do the same. She decides a little dwarven charm and logic might help. "Listen here, horse. Moradin made me with two legs and brains, and you four legs and none, so it's best you mind me. Now follow the others." She waits expectantly.

Ven, leans over his horse toward Sandros. "Now look what you've done, Sandy. You've been making the animals talk so convincingly that Daggda has actually begun talking back to them."

Sandros looks shocked. "What do you mean? I didn't do anything..."  He snickers. "I thought that really talked." Shaking his head, a slight smile on his face, he mutters, "Ruin all my delusions of talking animals and Tooth Pixies why don't ya?" He gives Ven a wink.

Taking a moment before mounting up, he says his goodbyes to Quill and Myr. He wishes them both well on their journeys, and gives each a little advice.

To Quill, he says, "When you find your relative...hang on to them with all you've got. This world has a nasty knack of taking them away when you least expect it. And regrets won't make up for lost time. Believe me on this one...I know." He smiles gently.

To Myr, he leans close and whispers, "No matter how crazy they tell you that you are...don't fall for it. You're the most sane person I've ever met, I think." He holds his fingers up in front of his face like fangs, and hisses. "But maybe listening to a soon-to-be-vampire's opinion might not be exactly normal, I guess. Just remember to never let the bad thoughts overwhelm the kindness in your soul, and all will be well." He pats her on her shoulder, gives her a smile, and turns away.

"Well, let's get out of here. I'm ready to take a look at Squarento once more, 'fore my eyes see things differently." He mounts up, pats his horse fondly on its shaggy head, and glances at the mule.

"I'm gettin' hungry for some Squarento grass!" the mule complains. "Enough of your chitchat! Let's go already!" The mule
just eyes them balefully. "Jeez...act like YOU are the ones carting around all this crap you keep piling on top of me..."

Happy to see his mount Andrew trots over for a quick chat and gives the horse a loving rub. Long Tail, the name that Andrew's mare was given by her mother, whickers in response.

Amazed at the accuracy achieved with the magical items Andrew enjoys the target practice but is more than happy to let Ven keep the bracers and bow.

Still not impressed with the prince's arrogance Andrew contemplates methods of revenge and ways to embarrass the haughty dwarf.  Waving a last goodbye to the departing friends the druid begins to concentrate on the tasks coming to hand.  After watching Daggda's not so skilled attempts and resulting mount Andrew coaxes his mount over to Daggda and leans over to the animal with its very unskilled rider.

Taking a few minutes to talk to the beast of burden and explaining the situation to it Andrew then gives Daggda a few pointers on riding, tells her the horses name and takes up a position beside the dwarven cleric.

The acolyte of Moradin is unusually humble for a dwarf, and readily takes in Andrew's instructions. "So what you're saying is, if I want this beast here to move, just kick her in the flanks, eh?  So what do I do when she's just eating grass and ignoring me, like now?"  She hoped the solution involved more kicking, despite her attempts not to offend the nature-loving druid.

"Come along men,"  Prince Geodon sings out.  Bracht dashes to the front of the group, and grabs the reins of the Prince's horse.

"errr.. Your highness... West is THAT way.  The road is over there," says the plainsman.

"Yes, of course.  I knew that.  I only wanted to see if YOU knew."  says Geodon smoothly.... almost as if it were true.  Turning in the direction indicated, Geodon trots to the front.  "Come along... nothing to be gained by wasting time here in the backwoods."

And so the group trots off toward the Old Coast Road.  If nothing goes wrong, they should reach Squarento in just 3 days with only 2 overnights in the wild.

But of course, things never quite work out that way.  The Prince will hear no objection, will countenance no attempt at hiding in the woods.  "REALLY!!  How do you ever accomplish anything.  The city lies ahead.  The road is the fastest method to the city.  You may hide in the woods if you choose.  But I shall continue on toward the objective:  a good meal and good drink INSIDE a comfortable inn."

Toward late afternoon, the party, led by the Prince comes around a bend in the road.  It is  the intersection where the Old Coast Road meets the road leading to Riverside -- about half a day's normal march away.  A small squad of about a dozen armed men has established a checkpoint here.

A standard is posted in the middle of the intersection.  The light breeze rustles the flag, showing that it is a white dove on a deep blue field.  Over the dove are 4 stars.  No one here has seen that flag before.

"OI!  'oo goes there?  State yer bizness."  Says the guard.  He looks up at the group.  "And you helven folk, dismount.  We'll 'ave to search for contraband."  About half of the squad is paying attention. 

The Prince pre-empts any of the adventurers by answering promptly. "I have official business.  I am a member of the ruling family of a sovereign nation.  Stand aside,"  he says in a strident tone.

The guard takes a step back.  An officer emerges from a tent.  He whispers something to one of his men.  The soldier runs to his horse, mounts up and gallops off down the road toward Riverside, while the officer turns to the party.

The officer approaches the Prince at a leisurely pace.  "I'll have to see your papers, Sir.  I'm sure your business is important, and I'm sure His Supreme Serenity, King Velluth, would want to extend his hospitality to you.  Won't you please dismount and come into my tent, where we can discuss this?"

"I will most certainly NOT," says the Prince.  "I demand to be allowed to pass."

"I am sorry, Sir," says the captain, with a gesture to his men.  "But we must inspect your packs for contraband."

The soldiers begin to advance toward the mounted men.  About half of them carry loaded crossbows.  The others are armed with short swords.  All are in chain.

Sandros isn't sure which worries him more...hearing the term "King Velluth", or knowing there's no way in hells Avon is going to let them look in HIS pack. Things were about to get nasty, he was afraid, but he sure wasn't going to be the one who made the first move.Trying to appear as nonchalant as possible about it, Sandros places his hand on the quarterstaff that's strapped on his horse. He glances at each of the crossbow weilders, and tries to figure out which way he could tumble off his horse and present the worst possible target in the process.

He waits...ready to drop down with quarterstaff ready, at the first sign that things are past the point of no return.Avon stiffens at the idea of ANYone searching his packs.  Those bastards are not going to take my harp!  Not after all I had to do to get it and keep it safe.  Damn stupid dwarf walking us into a trap like this.  he thinks.  Avon looks around, trying to find a gap in the trees on his side of the road that will give him some cover if he has to make a run for it.

"Oh, now this is just great," mumbles Ven.  "We go all out of our way, turn Sandros into a Vampire, almost get killed by a crazy black priestess, lose the beautiful women in the group--all to save this damned Prince and all he can do to thank us is march us right into the grip of the enemy."

He sighs and looks over to Sandros.  "Sandy, be ready.  If what I do works, we're going to be gallopping away from here in a hurry.  Try to let the others know--except the Prince, just let him follow for a change." 

Sandros gives Ven a quick grin, and still keeping himself ready to move at a moment's notice, he slides his way over toward the nearest of his friends. He whispers, "Ven's gettin' sleepy. Be ready."

That said Ven, as inconspicuously as possible, begins to weave a spell:

    My dearest friend and sentry sure,
    you know my thoughts and deeds are pure.
    Long we've been best of friends,
    so I'm sure you'll disallow harm
    and even your helping hand to lend,
    at least while 'whelmed by this charm.

Ven quietly unleashes this spell (OOC:  Charm Person) at the officer who is doing all of the talking and seems to in charge.  Ven pushes to the fore, once the spell is finished--hoping that it took!  "Look, here is my good friend from childhood!  Ah, it's so good to see you again after so long.  I'd love to stay and share a few glasses of mead like in the old days, but my companions and I have some important business of the king's to attend to.  I'm sure you understand the urgency.  So, we'll be on our way now. "

"Oh, and a couple other things, my friend--come here," Ven gestures for the man to come nearer and Ven bends over in his sadle to whisper to the man. "Two other things. The man you sent off on horseback is a spy and a villain. Don't trust anything he says and don't give him any accurate information about the direction we are heading. He'd do anything to thwart the king's mission. And secondly, in general, tell any of your superiors that you're certain that we headed to

Tav puts the spurs to Stalwart's side as he sees the captain cooperating with Ven's suggestions, and grabs the Prince's reins before the idiot can muck things up further.

Not knowing what else to do, the group follows.  After galloping had for a few minutes, they settle down to a quick, but sustainable, canter.  After half an hour, Bracht reins in, calling a halt near a small stream.  "The horses need some rest."  Says the clansman.

"What a foolish thing to do!" claims Prince Geodon.  "Lieing like that to that captain.  I am sure he would have allowed us to pass in due course, had we followed MY plan.  And, being the obvious leader of this group, I insist that it is MY plans that we shall follow, henceforth."  He dismounts, and tosses his reins in Daggda's direction.  "Annar... see that my horse is properly cared for."

Daggda  stands still in shocked disbelief at all that has just transpired and the Prince's nonchalance about it. She stares at the reins, but does not take them.

Ven, normally calm and easy going, leaps gracefully from his horse and steps in front of the prince. It crosses his mind that the prince is no doubt stronger than he is and capable of inflicting some harm to him, but he brushes that aside. "Okay now, I've had it! If it weren't for us you'd still be doped up and under the thumb of Avon's girlfriend. And, if I hadn't stepped in back there we'd either be trying to hack our way through all those guards or chained up. So, let's get some things straight here:

" We saved your ungrateful ass and we are, for various reasons, going to take said ass back to Squarento. If you'd like to come along nicely then realize that you are not and never will be our leader--you're not qualified. If you don't want to come nicely, that's fine too; we'll drug you again and tie you to your horse. You decide." Ven turns and starts to walk away from the red-faced open-mouthed Dwarf. "Oh, and one more thing," Ven adds, turning back to the still gaping Dwarf, "don't ever talk with disrespect to Daggda again. She's not your servant. She's the one who ensured that you were rescued." Ven then stalks away from the group, taking his horse with him so he can tend to its needs.

"Well done Ven!", Andrew congratulates emphatically as the party slows down and Andrew is even more impressed that somebody finally "dressed down" the whiny little prince. Andrew will take up a position behind Ven just in case the prince takes offence, lending his support to ALL of Ven's words.

Sandros chuckles at Ven's outburst, and shakes his head. "Better watch out, Princey... We might have saved your butt back there, but that doesn't mean we can't drag you back out there and ransom you ourselves, eh? And with this group, you have to be careful; some of us aren't nearly so polite as friend Daggda."

The mule says, "Heck, even *I* get better treatment then that...sheesh!"

Once safely past the checkpoint Tav dismounts and smiles to himself as the Prince is berated. Remembering Daggda's experience with the horse, he goes over and takes the reins from the dwarf, "Let me tend to the animals my friend."

Daggda looks at Veneron; her expressionless face is betrayed by her black eyes which sparkle with amusement. Remind me not to anger this young sorcerer, Daggda thinks to herself. She did not have the heart to tell the lanky human that essentially, she WAS Prince Geodon's servant. But Veneron, Andrew and Sandros were right: the Prince's arrogance had just nearly killed them. She walks away from everyone, and clumsily remounts her horse.

Looking to the north, she says in a flat voice. "The entire army of Duke Velluth will be searching for us within a couple of hours. We cannot rest any longer, and we definitely cannot remain on the roads. We ride until our horses drop, and then we will continue on foot." She turns to Veneron. "Thank you for saving our lives, Veneron. Your bravery was exemplary." Turning to her opposite side, she uneasily shifts in her saddle and spurs her horse. "Bracht, lead us on a path parallel to the Old Coast Road, but keep us out of sight of the road and any other checkpoints. Let's move - we may be dead already."

With a barely concealed smirk, Daggda looks at the Prince.  She can almost see the smoke coming out from his ears, as he whirls on Veneron.  "You insolent..." .... "I should...."  ... "Military discipline dictates ......"  he sputters in barely restrained fury.  But before saying what he "should"... he strides away, and looks down the road.

Bracht turns to Daggda: "The horses have been run hard for nearly an hour.  They cannot keep up that pace... and besides... it's not just speed that will see us safe to Squarento.  We need brains."  He turns to the group with a small smile.... "Anybody got any ??"

Seeing the prince a little ticked off makes Andrew feel a bit better but in the back of his mind he wonders about the repercussions that are sure to come.   Nodding to the plainsman, Andrew does his best to come up with a safe/sneaky route back to Squarento. Feeling fairly secure with his trail hiding and the lasting effects of the charm spell Andrew hopes that tonight will be peaceful, for a change.

Sandros looks up, his eyes wide, a smile on his face. "OOooooo...did I hear someone say brains? Sounds tasty..." He snickers, then says, "Just kidding, guys...put away the stakes and holy symbols already."

Then the plainsman gestures to Andrew and Jimmy, while Tav & Sandros water the horses.  "Andrew Grimm... these are your woods.  What is the best way to escape the net drawing around us?  And Jimmy... you left Squarento when I did, near enough, and got to Kalban's, and I never even saw you... what was your path?"

And the three put their heads together, talking about trails and animal tracks that the Freedom Fighters of the Benignity will probably not know.

After not enough rest for the horses, all agree that they nevertheless must get going again.  The group remounts -- Daggda gets an assist from the large Clansman, and remounts without incident.  With Jimmy's mule and Andrew aboard LongTail leading the way, they head inland -- towards the large army that looms over the horizon -- following a nearly invisible deer trail. After a few moments, Andrew stops, dismounts and disappears behind them... When he returns, he seems satisfied.  "I could not find our trail now... Unless they have magic to aid them, our trail is  invisible."

"But of course, they almost surely DO have magic to aid them," mutters Veneron.

The group presses on through the afternoon and early evening.  Exhausted, finally they stop for the night.

"What a coincidence, " Bracht muses.  "This is where I stopped for the night, when I was awakened with the smell of ~something~large~and~dangerous~ in the air."

"I'm none to happy to be stopping just here." Sandros thinks as he recognizes the small stream and the abandoned nesting ground where  the Vampire Bugbears ~fed~ on him.

Under Leaden Skies

Shuddering at the memory, the ex-slave tries his best to just not think about that anymore. Those sharp fangs, digging deep into his shoulder...  Yicko. Not an experience he cares to repeat. *At least not on the receiving end,* he thinks wryly. Seeing that his feral grin is drawing some attention, he quickly frowns, and clearing his throat says, "Well, uhhh...guess we need to set new watches, eh? Since half our group left, and we have half as many new folks." He shrugs.

"Or maybe we can just let His Lordliness of Great Big Beards stand watch the whole night. Use up some of that nasty attitude energy he has floatin' around." Sandros grins, and winces as one of the bruises the dwarf gave him earlier reminds him of who he's messing with. "Or maybe we'll just let him sleep all night, eh?"

Seeing the the group has settled on this spot for the evening, Geodon dismounts, and tethers his own horse with the others (!!). The Prince has been sullen all day, brooding in the manner of all bullies who have been "called." As the group is preparing for the night, and setting it's watches, he approaches Tavarak.

"May I again borrow your plain sword for the night ... and perhaps it would be best if I kept it at hand during the days ahead. I assure you it will be returned when we reach civilization again." And he begins to unpack the sword ... apparantly assuming that Tav would automatically say "yes."

Tavarak nods to the Prince, "Of course your Highness" the bard replies without a hint of sarcasm. "I would be honoured to stand watch with you if it pleases you." Tav moves over to make sure all is well with the mounts before walking the perimeter of the small encampment. Approaching Daggda and Avon "Well this isn't the best camp with regards to defence that I've ever seen, but its not to bad. I think it would be worth setting up some basic traps, perhaps a couple of trip traps and the like." Tav scouts out likely approaches for an enemy attack and sets up ankle high ropes along the paths before going off alone to practice with his new sword.

Geodon then approaches Sandros. "I promised you lessons in that 2-weapon style until we reach town, and I shall honor my word." He stands armed with sword and dagger, waiting for Sandros. Unlike the previous night, he is not relaxed and calm... the tension of the day's activities show in his body posture and stance.

Sandros eyes the dwarf warily a moment, and mutters under his breath, "THIS should be entertaining..."
Giving Geodon a solemn nod, Sandros draws out his short sword, and his dagger as well. "Okay, I'm ready for some more bruises. Let's do it." He smiles, and waits for the dwarf to make the first move.

Worried about the horses Andrew keeps a very close eye on them, he'd rather walk or call it quits for the night then hurt one of the horses.

Turning a worried eye on the prince and wondering about the possible outcome of a "lesson" this night, Andrew will watch closely but will let Sandros decide his own course. The druid will stay close to be sure nothing goes wrong during the training.

Ven has been quiet and moody the rest of the day. He feels his outburst was justified, but he's a bit embarrassed by it anyway. He avoids the Prince and goes about his own business: tending his mount, resting, reading through his spell book, etc. He asks to take an early watch so that he can cast an identify item spell on the as of yet unidentified charm that the priestess wore. That done, he goes down to sleep for the night.
Ven's attempt at detection leads to no new insights about the magic bracelet that Andrew wore briefly the previous day.  It seems to him that it will detect magic, indicating the approximate strength of the magic by the degree of coldness.

Most of the group stands around watching as Sandros and Prince Geodon circle each other warily, both with a weapon in each hand.  The Prince is amazingly fast for a dwarf, but of course, Sandros is significantly more agile.  There is little of the Prince's commentary as he presses his "lesson" on Sandros.  The slight thief/fighter tries to dance in and out of range, parrying as he learned yesterday, but the Prince's much greater experience gives him an enormous advantage against his "pupil."  The flat of the borrowed longsword lands against Sandros hip and rib with a solid SWAK several times, but not nearly so often as on the previous day.

Sandros parries adroitly, and then, with an move he did NOT see from his "teacher" he dances close, locks his dagger in the guard of the Prince's sword and an acrobat's twistflick -- the longsword flies across the clearing.  The "pupil" thumps Geodon's shoulder with a solid THWUMK before he dances out of range again.  Winded but with a huge grin, Sandros looks at the Prince.  "*FINALLY* I killed you... admittedly after you killed me 5 times... but still!!"

Grudgingly, Prince Goedon looks at Sandros.  "Well and well again.  You are a quick study... I credit you that.  Tomorrow I see I shall have to use the sword in my better hand."

Sandros  begins to laugh at this obvious excuse, but Daggda, on the sidelines, hoots at her ventroliquist-companion.  "Watch out, Sandros!  His highness really *IS* left-handed.  I watched him back in Dwarvenholm spar with King Basalt's armsmaster.  I hope your bruises heal quickly."  And the acolyte chuckles again  into her beard.

Thankful that the prince was big enough not to hurt Sandros during the sparring match because he was angry the druid nods in approval of the dwarf's inner strength.

Tavarak approaches Sandros with a pat on the shoulder, "Nice workout with the prince, It is obvious from the improvements in your form that his training is paying off."

------------------------------
Tiredness overcomes the group soon enough and after a meal of cold rations and stream water, they settle in for the night.  The presumed enemy patrols feel all too close, and no one suggests a fire. 

No one sleeps well in this cursed spot.  Avon's dreams are visited by images of an elven woman playing on the harp he now carries.  Then he sees her being torn apart by the vampire bugbears and her bones tossed into the pile where he found them.   He wakes -- shaking and bathed in sweat -- altho he tells no one of his dreams. 

Sandros gets no sleep at all.  Even the physical exertion of his sparring match is insufficient to get his mind off the previous inhabitants of this campsite.  The fang-scars in his neck/shoulder throb dully.  He lays for long, long hours in the darkness, staring up into the stars, jumping at even sound the woods brings.  In the darkness of his watch with Tavarak, he strips completely and shrugs into the gossamer-thin raven suit that Myridian left behind.  "Tav... if you make just ONE funny crack, I swear so help me..."  He squirms into the suit and then redresses in his "normal" clothes and cloak.  "I figure... we've GOT the thing... SOMEbody ought to try and use it."

Finally, the dawn comes, and everyone is ready to leave this place quickly.  Both clerics, in their morning prayers, find their respective dieties strangely "missing."  The reassuring feeling of connection that each has come to know is missing.  [OOC from DM:  This will not interefere with any spell abilities today for either cleric]  Andrew and Daggda look at each other and exchange a few words.  "Worse than yesterday," both agree, with a worried attitude.  Each suggests to the other that the cursed nature of this particular spot is responsible for the problem, but each knows in his/her heart that the problem is deeper than that.

Having been close to Najela since before he can even remember, Andrew is VERY shaken by the distance he feels between himself and his goddess. For almost as long as he's been alive, give or take 20 some odd years to an elf, Najela has been close by, and he has felt her touch in everything he did. The fact that her beauty is all around, and nothing natural seems to be suffering, is all that keeps the druid going. Obviously Najela is well but he can't reach her with his prayer. Andrew is more than a little concerned with the absence and it shows.

They decide to hit the trail as quickly as possible, and the morning meal is relegated to chewing hard-tack while on horseback. 

They follow the stream north and west under a gloomy, overcast sky.  The clouds range from a light pewter to nearly black, and it doesn't take a spell to forecast rain ... and soon.  The wind comes from the southeast ... ever a sign of a solid storm in the near future.

As midday approaches, Andrew calls a halt and confers with the others.  "We have to get to the west side of the road... otherwise we'll be caught between the road patrols and the main army.  Of course, if we DO get to the other side, we'll be between the patrols and the cliff... BUT.. " He smiles.  "If we can keep going, we should be near the top of the cliff and the trail down by nightfall... IF we can keep going.  I wish there were another way down, but I do not know of one."  He looks at Jimmy, who just nods his head in agreement.

"We are close to the road now, and this stream crosses it just a half-league ahead.  I think Bracht and I should scout ahead and see what is there."

The duo head into the brush ahead, on foot.  Soon enough they are back with bad news.  "There is a squad of about a dozen camped on the far side of the road, near the stream.  We didn't see any sentries, and I doubt they saw us.  They seemed to be on a lunch break."

Geodon stands, and addresses the group in a low voice.  "I still insist... or suggest if you will" he amends with a look at Veneron "... that they dare not interfere with my passage.  We can brazen it out, and simply demand that they stand aside."

Ignoring him, Bracht offers: "We could try and go around, but we'd have to go back -- or ahead -- by at least half a day.  The road is pretty straight, and they've got good lines of sight down the road.  At least that has the advantage that we'll probably be crossing at night .... If you call traveling at night with no trail in hostile territory an advantage."

Sandros mutters to the mule, "I sure wish Myridian were here to wear that bird suit... I'd give a lot to know if another patrol was nearby ... and what's waiting for us at the trail down the cliff.  Nobody, except maybe a hungry eagle, would bother with one little raven.... Might as well wish for a magic carpet, tho..."   He was there, watching Myridian flop around awkwardly while she was learning how to control her body in flight, and now -- in a near crisis situation -- was not an ideal time for experimenting.  Besides, someone WOULD notice a raven that could barely fly straight.

Giving the prince a little leeway because of the situation Andrew accepts his suggestions with a nod but has to disagree. Pehaps his lack of divine guidance has tainted his views a bit. "These men are worshiping a "false" king NOW," Andrew says to the prince. "What makes you think they'll recognize your rule?"
"I think the best route is through those men." Andrew's tone of voice leave little room for discussion on the meaning of his words.

The bard shakes his head at the princes comment. "Your highness we can not gamble your safety in such a manner. We must use whatever means to circumvent any and all obstructions in our path. Like it or not you are the key to the survival of the city, and we can not count on the fact that these brigands in uniform will honour the diplomatic charter. They have already had you kidnapped, and there is no telling how far they will go to stop our journey. I implore you to reconsider."

Ven sits aside from the others studying through his spellbook and looking over the notes that Myr left behind. He seems deep in thought and only looks up occasionally as the other discuss strategy. He figures that they will hash out the best course of action on their own without his inexperienced input and whatever they decide is fine with him--through or around the enemy doesn't much matter to him. He shrugs and re-focuses on his spells.

"FINALLY!, " Geodon says with a nod toward Andrew.  "Someone willing to accept some leadership and common sense...."  He addresses Tavarak and Andrew: "Of *course* the only way to proceed is through those men.  And, friend bard, if they will not listen to reason and stand aside, we will *fight* our way thru them.  I had no more intention of *HOPING* they will accede to my request than... than... HE does of following my lead."  The prince points toward Avon.  "Despite what you may think, I am no fool. ... Now let's get on with this."

"I will array myself as a common dwarf, tho surely they will see thru that subtrefuge, whilst one of you tells them of our pressing mission for their King.  And as before, I expect they will simply let us thru... as was the case at the last checkpoint.  Eventually that captain did see reason, and let us pass, as you will recall!" He adjusts the borrowed sword in his belt, and dismounts. 

"Come down from that silly horse, Annar... you cannot fight from horseback.  DO TRY and remember that you are a dwarf, after all!"

"FINALLY!, " Geodon says with a nod toward Andrew.  "Someone willing to accept some leadership and common sense...."  He addresses Tavarak and Andrew: "Of *course* the only way to proceed is through those men.  And, friend bard, if they will not listen to reason and stand aside, we will *fight* our way thru them.  I had no more intention of *HOPING* they will accede to my request than... than... HE does of following my lead."  The prince points toward Avon.  "Despite what you may think, I am no fool. ... Now let's get on with this."

Avon is surprised when the dwarf points at him, he is also somewhat amused by it. Carefully he cracks a faint smile and then continues picking his nose.

"I will array myself as a common dwarf," Prince Geodon continues, "tho surely they will see thru that subtrefuge, whilst one of you tells them of our pressing mission for their King.  And as before, I expect they will simply let us thru... as was the case at the last checkpoint.  Eventually that captain did see reason, and let us pass, as you will recall!" He adjusts the borrowed sword in his belt, and dismounts.

"Come down from that silly horse, Annar... you cannot fight from horseback. 
DO TRY and remember that you are a dwarf, after all!"

Sandros snorts in an attempt to rein in laughter. "Oh...I see...you'd  much rather she ride YOU instead?" the mule says in it's whiny voice.

A bit of impatience flashes in his eyes as he waits for everyone to explain to the Prince that they can't just tip their hat at every guard they see and hope to survive. "We have to get moving again, folks. At this rate, we'll end up back at the caves by tomorrow." He smiles.

Ven sigh heavily.  "I guess I'd better keep that charm person spell on the tip of my tongue if we're going to be waltzing into the arms of the enemy expecting them to see 'sense'.  By the way, if this goes all to hell and we have to ride like mad with an army chasing us, how much further to the tunnels?  Could we make it?"  Ven packs his spell book into his pack, pulls out a piece of jerkey that Kalaban had given him the day before and mounts up.

"Oh no," says Jimmy, "not today.  We're still up on the cliffs.  We'll need the rest of today to get to the road that snakes down the bluff... and then most of the next day to get to the tunnel entrance."

Avon shakes his head at the prince's plan. "No, you're no fool" he states, "you are a lunatic!" His eyes should fire. "What is wrong with you, this is no play we are in, this is real." He is silent for a moment, then he continues, "Can't we atleast try to sneak past them instead of confronting them?" knowing that as always trying to reason with these people would be meaningless.

Ven looks to Avon, approval clearly written all over his face. "I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm with Avon one-hundred percent. Think about it, how crazy do you have to be if Avon thinks you're a lunatic! The good prince's skills at avoiding these people is suspect--afterall he did manage to get himself kidnapped by them once before, right."

Tavarak watches as the discussion starts to heat up. Knowing of the legendary short temperdness of the dwarfs, Tav pipes in. "Your highness, we only managed to escape the last little encounter because of some magical intervention. Besides there is no sport in killing these men. The sport is in trying to avoid them, that's where the challenge is, wouldn't you agree? Besides the more I think about it the more important it is to protect the son of Autumleaf" Tav looks at Avon. "He is the key to a greater calling, to something very big." the bard sighs, "To something we still haven't figured out yet." Tav turns to look at the guide, "lead on, lets get past these soldiers and make best possible speed back to the city."

Avon is not comfortable at all by his newly gained status. Although he hasn't thought of ways on how to abuse this power he knows it holds a lot of potential. He always suspected that he was special, or atleast different than the ordinary people. He had a destiny to fullfill, a history to write. It was as if the spirits of the dead swirled around him. A mist of past and future engulved him. Oh yes, this new situation created all kinds of possibilities. Pondering on how to gain a maximum profit he waits for the group to decide what to do, he knows what he wants to do though and it isn't fighting.

Agreeing with Tav 100% Andrew helps to convince Geoden of the merits of stealth. "Not all of us are as well trained in battle as you sir and we casualties would only slow us down. We need speed and stealth to outwit the superior numbers our enemy has. Besides the sound of battle travels a long way and there are bound to be many groups within earshot."
As long as everyone is in agreement Andrew will take point and try to sneak the group past any guard posts that they come across. The pace wont be very fast but we stand a better chance if the druid can keep the noisy party as far as possible from the wrong kind of ears.

Slowly the Dwarven prince turns to face Tav.  He has listened to all the discussion facing the woods ahead, ready to proceed on foot.  But as he turns, Tav can see that his face is bright red.  He stares, nearly bug-eyed at the elven bard, for fully 30 seconds.  Then he spits his words out, slowly, full of anger: "More important ??!!  ... MORE IMPORTANT !!! ... More important than returning ME safely to Squarento !  I care not 2 figs for your Autumnleaf.  What is some elven warrior from the  past to me?    I shall have had better treatment from the Duke of Athring than from this bunch of so-called rescuers.  You do as you will... HIDE from danger if that is how you face the world !   I AM A DWARF ... I AM A PRINCE OF DWARVES... I DESERVE  HONOR AND RESPECT AND I DEMAND NOTHING LESS.  "

And so saying, Prince Geodon turns and stomps at a sedate pace into the woods between their current position and the road.  It is about 200 yards from here to where the squad of soldiers sits, on the other side of the road.  He mutters to himself.  "A decent and honorable ransom is preferable to this."

Daggda rushes to get in front of the Prince before he gets too far.  She places her hands on his chest and digs her feet into the loam.  "Wait, your highness... WaitWaitWait.  STOP STOP!!  He didnt mean it that way... RIGHT TAV??"