Song of the Gods

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??"

[Ven]
"All right.  I say we kill the Dwarf and see if they'll give us a fraction of the reward for bringing his body back.  Actually, I say we take him straight to the Duke of Athring ourselves and play like we re-captured him for his lordship.  Anything would be better than this insanity!"  Ven's tone leaves it in doubt to whether or not he is being sarcastic.

Tavarak follows the pair, "Yes, Daggda I meant it as it was said" Tav pauses, "But obviously not as the prince took it. Your Highness I mean you no disrespect and there are none here who would not be honoured to stand by your side in battle. None among us question your right or noble birth, or would think twice about heeding your commands in battle, for we all know that you are the most capable warrior and possess the battle smarts that none of us do. I also know that things are seldom as they seem. There appears to be some mystery unveiling that none of us understand. Please, don't let your lust for battle overshadow your good judgement."

Sandros lets out something similiar to a growl, and then he stomps widely about in a circle, his feet rising higher then his waist with
each stomp. "More important...more important..." he says in the whiniest voice he can manage. "Boo-hooo...no one kisses my butt like they're supposed to...I'm gonna cry...Whaaa!!!" He pauses and pretends to play a violin, making sad little screechy sounds.

Stomping right after the dwarven prince, who's pausing to listen to Daggda's words, he leaps in front of him and says VERY calmly, "What makes YOU more important then ANYONE? Why are you more important then...say...Daggda? A woman who has proven just how important she is every minute of every day that I've known her. Or more important then Ven? Who's spells saved us all getting chopped into tiny little pieces for the birds to snack on. Or more important then Avon, even...who, as much as he drives me insane, at least has enough sense to keep from getting himself killed by his own crazy ideas." Sighing, he shakes his head.

"Oh...let me guess. You're SO important because you're a PRINCE. That makes you better then all of us, and everyone you'll ever
meet. No matter how you ACT to those who are only trying to help you and keep you alive and do what's RIGHT. Well, if being a nobleman means that you're perfect, then I guess we should all just quit right now and let the Duke have what he wants, right? He's just as important as YOU in your methodology of rating such things. He's a nobleman TOO."

Glaring at the dwarf, knowing that he could easily end up with lots worse then bruises if he continues, he doesn't flinch. "I've seen the Duke do things that would make any one of you cringe to hear. But I begin to wonder if by helping you, we'll be any better off in the end. And that's a terrible, terrible thing."

Crossing his arms, and giving his worst frown, he adds, "So why don't you face reality, chunky-butt. You're a dwarf, who by the luck of being born a nobleman, is the best chance we have of keeping things the way they SHOULD be in these surrounding lands. If not for that, you would be no different then any of us. And with that attitude, you'd be the least of us all, I think. It's time for you to learn how to be a TRUE prince...and understand that just by being what you are doesn't mean you're always right. And that having people respect you for your actions is more princely then brow-beating them into submission will ever be."

He stands there, eyeing the dwarf, waiting for the hailstorm he knows is probably coming. "I'm done. Finished. You want our help, freakin' act like it. Otherwise, maybe we'll go with Ven's suggestion, and save everyone one hell of a lot of heartache. Dammit, I'd bet even your own PEOPLE wouldn't be so hurt to see you disappear for good. Maybe that's why they're not trying all that hard to come and find you, eh?"

"What a pompous ass!  All this noise is sure to bring the duke's men," Andrew thinks to himself as he slips off into the brush.  The druid has no trouble moving out and around to the front watching for the Duke's men. The thickness of the forest has kept most of the noise from reaching the still-resting soldiers on the other side of the road.  They seem to show no interest in doing anything at all --- other than sleeping in the shelter of the trees or eating some lunch.  From time to time one of them looks at the ominous clouds off to the north, but directly overhead, it is a light cover, and the sun's disk is cutting thru to make a bright day.  There is one sentry leaning against a tree at the side of the road, almost opposite the place where the small stream trickles across, and where Andrew is concealed.  All the horses are tethered to a large pine tree at the back of the clearing.

Avon fights the urge to disagree with the bard but then realizes that keeping silent is probably the best thing to do. The whole situation makes him smile though. Sooner or later goodness ends, they would see things his way as their adventures continued.

"Nice to see that you are all suddenly very much concerned about your lives. A nice change. But I think it is time to move. Standing here won't solve our problem. So either we go around or we go straight through. Either way, we need to do it soon."

He turns towards the dwarf. "As far as you are concerned, I would start watching your back. Princes have a tendency to die in their sleep these days." He wonders what makes him act so relax, he knows he could kill the dwarf for speaking like this about his father. Some how the words don't seem to touch him. Still, the dwarf should really be starting to watch his back, he wasn't bluffing.

After his reconnaissance, Andrew returns and  walks up to the prince, saying in a quiet voice with his steady eyes locked on the so-called royalty. "This is the last time my friends and I will have anything to do with you if you endanger us again. This will make 3 TIMES that we have saved you from your own stupidity! IF you insist on being so damned STUPID then so be it! We can deal with those who plot your death, after the fact! Do not fear if you choose to walk off again, no one will stop you. Remember this before you act rashly, we saved you only days before the Mark would have ended your reign and you were so drugged you didn't even know the time of day. We were your last and only chance, and we succeeded where dozens failed. Perhaps it is you who should reconsider his actions?"

Andrew leaves the last a question and slowly walks away. There is no doubt that he is finished with this fool if he continues the lunacy he seems so fond of and any of the others who chooses to follow the dim wit.

As if to punctuate the volley of angry words, off to the North, an ominous dark cloud erupts with a bolt of lightening that snakes to the ground [coincidentally turning a pile of expensive routers and network connections into paperweights and boat anchors].  The rumble of thunder that reaches the group's ears a few seconds later gives them a reasonable indication that the squall is still many leagues distant. 

Geodon turns once more, his eyes flickering over the members of the group.  They settle first on Sandros, "Yes, I am a Prince.  I do not deny it. You seem to think it is a bad thing... but it seems you have a bad habit of selecting the high-born for enemies, maybe it is YOU and not the rest of the world that needs reforming.. ... Indeed, being a Prince does make me more important than you ... despite whatever you think you  have learned on the slave auction block.  All your life you've had someone to make decisions for you about you:  first your parents, then whoever bought you.  Never has it been your role to decide what should happen to others.  Not for you is the decision of war or peace -- of letting your people be slaughtered in their sleep or leading them to possible death in battle... No, but you can make a mule talk!  PFUI!!" 

His eyes flash to the Druid.  "You -- you prowl the woods alone... Would you have a clue about what to do with an army of 5000 dwarven warriors at your back and twice that many Gaednorian raiders at your front?"

He stands taller, acts calmer, as he turns toward Veneron, "Dwarves have known the truth about magic for generations on generations.    Not since Kuzzar the Golden's days have dwarves pretended to summon power that is rightly not of this world.  We do not play parlor tricks with mumbled incantations ..."

As he speaks, the sky begins to darken, but it is not rain clouds or storm.  Looking up at the disk of sun's glow that can be seen dimly thru the layer of clouds, one can see a shadow begin to cover it.  The horses stomp the ground nervously.

The prince goes on: "... inventing illusions or fireballs.  No!  I bear the weight of real problems that face my father's kingdom.  While he is out playing soldier-boy with the white cloaks of Illuvitar... who do you think negotiated the treaty with Willhelm of Melfis in the first place?  THAT is what puts food on the tables of Dwarvenholm."

Andrew, angry as he is at the Dwarven Prince, finds himself distracted.  He looks up and sees the shadow cover a greater part of the sun.  He knows this is a natural phenomenon, but it is strange that he wasnt aware of it.  Usually the coming of an eclipse would have been something he just "knew".... and he absentmindedly grasps Najela's holy symbol.  He is shocked... It is just a cold, wooden piece of carved wood... not the warm, life-giving emblem of the Goddess that has been his inspiration and solace for decades.  He searches his heart for the link to Her that has always nurtured him.  There is nothing there.  He staggers backward, falling heavily against a tree, and then to the ground. 

Daggda seems able to completely ignore the ranting of her liege's heir.  She goes to Andrew, the gold/silver/hizakkur anvil symbol that links her to Moradin in her own hand.  "I know," she says kneeling on one knee at the side of the Druid, "He is gone somehow..."  Andrew points to the sky, and Daggda looks at the partially obscured solar disk.

Even Geodon interrupts himself in mid-spout to look -- first at the clerics grasping at their holy symbols and then, following Andrew's gesture, up to the sky.  He pauses, and the expression on his face changes entirely.  He spits a curse, then says "You see?!  It is even as the ancient tales predict!  Night at midday.  The disappearance of the Golden Dragons.  The departure of the Gods..." He swings his arm around at the whole group.  "You fools know nothing!  We cannot stand around,  tiptoeing around insignificant little piles of soldiers for days, when we could take them apart if need be with the flick of a finger....  We have to get to Squarento.  NOW.  TONIGHT!!"  He turns and runs back to his horse.  Hurriedly he remounts, talking all the while: "YOU, Tavarak the Bard.  Did you learn pretty songs  just to impress the women?  Did you not understand the ending of the Song of the Gods?!"

He wheels his horse in the bed of the small stream they've been following.  "This is no time for silly games of 'I dont like him because he said nasty words.'  or 'He's noble-born and is too bossy.'  or ... aaahPfui! ..."  He spits on the ground again and then points at the shadowed sun. "The Dark Lord wakes !!  And, in a few weeks, when he is fully awake, He will raise His horde of evil-spawn.  With them at His back He will come.. for ALL of us."

"The only one I know who has a chance of stopping him is Rast.  And *HE* is in Squarento.  If I know where he is, you can bet that Silindur will know.  You do as you like..." the ring of steel sounds as he draws the longsword, borrowed from Tavarak "... but I am going to Squarento now and I am not prepared to let a pissant squad of good-for-nothing soldiers stop me."  He grabs at the reins of the horse Jimmy rides with his sword hand. "Come boy... I need you... you know how to get in."  And he pushes his horse and Jimmy's toward the open road (still some 200 yards away), trying to pick up speed as he splashes thru the streambed.

The group is stunned at this last outburst by the Prince.  It had started out in his usual nasty, spiteful tone ... but toward the end, he had shown flashes of the kind of charismatic force it would take to hold an army together.  They all stood around silently as he dropped tidbits of explosive information on them like a rainstorm of fireballs.

Tavarak, since the Prince had mentioned the Song of the Gods, had been running the ancient legend thru his mind.  It told the story of how Silindur had perished before the mighty sword of Illuvitar, forged for him by Moradin.  The verses told of the aid given in time of war to the Gods of Men by the Golden Dragons.... Of a dwarven wizard who killed the Dark God's steed, a black dragon.... But it is the ending which shakes him as he remember it:

        "When night dost come at height of day,
        And dwarven armies headless be,
        The Golden Dracon stand idly by,
        As the Dark Lord rises from his tomb.
        Never again shall snow touch the earth,
        When armies of fire rule o'er all."

Bracht, of course, knows nothing of the verse that runs thru Tavarak's head.  He looks at the group, remembers the gypsy's fortune ... but the voice he heard at the end of Geodon's outburst was one of command --- and he'd been trained his whole life as a soldier, accustomed to commanding and being commanded.  "Even if, my commander is a horse's patoot!"  He thinks ruefully to himself. 

"Folks," Bracht says to the others of the party, "I think he finally made some sense.  Let's go to Squarento, and to hell with whoever gets in the way."  As he turns to follow Jimmy's horse, he reaches back with his free hand to unlimber the large bardiche strapped to his back.

Darkness at Midday

Ven, who had concluded that the prince was a completely useless pile of flesh, is stunned by the turn of events. He still didn't like the ass--he is rude and condescending--but Andrew's and Daggda's reactions indicated that things larger than life were happening. And, while Ven had never really considered himself a religious sort--he'd rather take business himself--he did find it very disconcerting to be at the epicenter of the good gods taking their leave and the dark god rising from the grave. All of this combined to lead Ven to the conclusion that following the prince into battle might be the best course of action after all (of course, he thinks to himself, it would have been easier if he'd just told us the world was coming to an end and we needed to hurry!). So he kicks his heels into his horse and charges after the others, gathering the beginnings of a spell as they approach.

Sandros, a bit stunned by the Prince's reply to his words, takes a moment to try and figure out what just happened. But then, wordlessly for once, he just mounts up, and holds his quarterstaff at the ready. Then, giving his horse a quick kick, he's off and after Geodon, not even looking back to see if the others are following.

As he rides behind the dwarven prince, Sandros thinks over some of what the man said to him. *...but it seems you have a bad habit of selecting the high-born for enemies, maybe it is YOU and not the rest of the world that needs reforming...* Boy, he certainly DID make some bad enemies. Just his luck that the man he hated most in the world was now becoming one of the most powerful noblemen around.

*Never has it been your role to decide what should happen to others. Not for you is the decision of war or peace -- of letting your people be slaughtered in their sleep or leading them to possible death in battle... No, but you can make a mule talk!* Sandros sighs. Maybe the dwarf was right about that much, at least. Who was he to tell anyone anything? Just an ex-slave, who'd still be serving someone if not for the kindness of the man who bought him so many years ago. There was no one he had to save, no one to follow him anywhere he might try and lead. Like anyone would ever follow someone who had the marks of slavery so apparent on his face anyway.

So why did he even care? It's not like anything he did made a difference anyway. All he did was get bit by a vampire, and nearly get killed in every major battle he fought. What a hero, eh?  All the anger that had flowed through his veins that had been directed
at the Prince left him. All he felt now was a keen sadness. For he knew in his heart that he had been wrong. He was nothing, he was NOT important...definitely not as much as a dwarven prince. If he fell off his horse right then and smashed his skull on a rock, it wouldn't matter one bit. As long as the Prince got to lead his men against the Duke in the end.

So be it. He'd charge recklessly wherever he was led, then. And if it was his time to die, at least no one would cry over his corpse. He could give that much to the world, at least. Sandros frowns, gripping his quarterstaff tightly in his hands, ready to smack anything that even thinks of slowing them down. Time to focus his anger on those who most deserve it, he thinks...

Avon has been watching the whole conversation from a distance. Amazed by the reaction of the Prince and even more amazed by the reaction of the group. He stares at Tavarak as if he expects an answer from the bard. He shrugs and shakes head. "Soth! I'll never understand them, I tell you" he whispers as he passes Tav.

Before mounting he makes sure everything in his backpack is organized and fastened. Then he hesitates for a moment. Suddenly he removes his brown woolen clothing revealing his elven chain, mysteriously blinking in the few rays of light that reach it. He stuffs his clothing in his back pack and secures it to his horse's saddle. Then he puts his bow crossed over his back and as soon as he mounts his horse he draws his sword.

Then he turns to Tavarak, "I guess, sometimes, there comes a time when being... cautious, just isn't enough. If I... we, have to die, let us die as heroes." He swallows noticeably. Probably being more dramatic then is necessary he raises his sword and cries "To battle!" And spurts of after the group that has a head start.

Tavarak shakes his head, wondering why only now the prince shows some sign of the regal bearing that flows thru his blood. Why after making so many ill fated choices does he finally show his true colours. Mounting his war horse and making ready his lance, the bard looks at Andrew to make sure he is ok Slowly the missive starts to fall into place, fighting the urge to gallop off after the prince, Tav waits for Avon to mount up. The words swirling in his head, ...Avon is the key... I must not loose sight of that fact he mumbles to himself.

Those who are mounted get moving first… Bracht and Veneron are the first to follow the Dwarven Prince and his blind guide.  Sandros hurriedly mounts and grabs the lead of the mule.  Fortunately, the mule feels like following -- this time.    Andrew and Daggda, both still a little shaken from their broken links with their respective deities, struggle to horse and follow Sandros gamely.  Tavarak watches Avon carefully as he gallantly waits to be sure that the sole woman in the group, Daggda -- who is also the worst rider -- is not left behind.  Avon loses a little time, after shedding his outer clothes.  But is soon charging down the streambed after the others.

Breaking out of the forest along the small creek, the Prince's horse, with Jimmy's in tow, finds the road and accelerates down the Old Coast Road northward.   At the sight of the first pair of riders, the lone sentry comes alert and tries to shout a challenge.  One after another the party bursts onto the road, and races down the road following Geodon's galloping horse.  All 10 of the animals (7 adventurers + Geodon + Jimmy + mule) are on the road as the lead group nears the sentry.

[OOC:  The sequence and approximate spacing of the riders is:  [note: each "." = about 5 yards]

[sentry] ….. GJBr.Ve … Sa(Mu) …. Av.DaAn.Tv

The sentry is about 10 strides in front of Geodon.]

Bracht spurs his horse forward and he almost leaps up to Geodon's side.  Having seen the Dwarven Prince holding the sword in his left hand, Bracht takes to the right.  "Give me the reins to Jimmy's horse," shouts the Plainsman as he reaches over with one of the trick riding moves he'd practiced, but never had the opportunity to use, and grabs them from the Prince's right hand.  Bracht swings his huge axe-like bardiche in menacing swoops on the side of his horse, as he and the Prince spur their horses to full gallop.

Geodon bellows at the sentry: "Attackers.. behind us!  They are marching on Riverside!  We're going to the main army for help!"  He does not even need to swing at the sentry … the confused soldier stands aside and Veneron (riding just a few yards behind the lead trio) can hear him calling for his squad leader.

[Ven]
"Well, I'll be a crossed-eyed goat, he's trying to trick them!" he exclaims to himself as he charges past. Then, a moment later. "Why, that lousy son of a monkey's ass prince. He gets all bent out of shape if I trick the enemy, but it's perfectly fine for his majesty to do so." Ven looks over his shoulder to see if the ruse would allow the entire party to get past the confused bunch of soldiers.

Sandros, who is moving as quickly as he can with the mule slowing him  down slightly, breaks his reverie when he hears the dwarven prince yelling at the soldiers.

Getting the gist of it, at least, Sandros waits until he's near the soldiers as well before calling out, "There's hundreds of them! We have to warn the others!" He just keeps riding, not even glancing at any of them, hoping their ruse will work at least a little longer.
The soldiers are confused… some had not even noticed the solar darkening, thinking the gloom to be caused by an impending storm.  Now they look up.. then look back down the road, and run for their weapons.  Sandros and the mule gallop down the road

Avon is not exactly sure what happened. The dwarf seemed to shout something to the soldier and charged past. Judging from the reaction of the soldier they were not going to have to fight, yet. As Avon charges past he brings his hand towards his head and makes an awkward salute while beaming a distorted smile towards the soldier(s). So far so good!

He feels the rush inside him, it makes him feel invincible. He lets out a roar, he doesn't no why. He lived, that much was clear. He waves his sword in the air. He must be crazy, he surely must be.

Taking his cue from the rest Andrew simply rides on. Finally it seems the prince has done something intelligent. "Maybe he just has to be mad to make good decisions," the druid ponders as he rides through the now unguarded blockade.

Still feeling lost because of the sudden disconnection, Andrew just follows along in the wake of the others for now.

As the lead part of the party goes thundering past the Bard smiles to himself, wondering if the their words got thru to the Prince or if this had been his plan all along. Smiling at the ironic twist of circumstances he realizes that they would more then likely never know the answer to that riddle. Tav reins in Stalwart as the last of the group rides safely past. Addressing what looks to be the senior soldier, "We have important information to get thru, you must hold off the HORDE as long as you can. Beware they will be here within the hour, and they are in the presence of Worgs and users of powerful magic. Quickly what is your name? I shall make sure that our liege knows of your bravery this day." Waiting but a few seconds, the Bard turns his warhorse and spurs him onward towards the other.