Birthright: Tuornen Chapter Five

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

"Ah yes, we were just getting acquainted," he tells Roald. "You keep a sellsword's company, but by the bones, that's exactly what we need. Now, Torthur mentioned something about being hired on for a raid?"

[Varrus the Ethical]

WATCH HQ


"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to put together a small force of mounted men drawn from our conscripts and other...volunteers to cross the Tour into Alamie. There, I intend to wreak havoc and burn everything that can't be carried off."

[steveflam]

WATCH HQ

Rennault can't help but laugh. "You wouldn't be the first to think Sergeant Gilly's the real commander of the watch. Sometimes I make the same mistake myself," he says with wry humor.

"Well, friend Torthur, if you're looking for work as a raider, you've come to the right place. And my thanks for your condolences. Being born noble...you take it one day at a time." Normally, Rennault wouldn't brook insolence from strangers, but the dwarf reminds him of some of his rougher comrades back in Ghonallison.

"Roald would be along shortly, I'd imagine. Until then, I'd like to hear about what kind of havoc you can wreak in exchange for my gold. Where have you worked before?"

"Oh, and Sergeant? See if we can scare up some honey..."

Torthur nods, understanding Renn's query. "Less see. Ever since I gone left me clan I lived in them mountains, explorin an havin fun diggin pits to kill me many worgs n gobbies. Thass how I started, ye see."

He scratches his ale caked beard in thought, now completely alert. "When I was but a wee lad I discovered me likin fer punchin cows an would leave the caves ter go practice me pasttime. That an chasin birds ter eat em raw. I kin show yer all how ter do it, it be fun jess ter run after tha dag things. Punchin cows be fun. First one ter knock one down wins. I usually win." He grins here, still more to add.

"Yeah, then I also killed way too many gobbies n worgs ye kin count on ye hands n toes a few times, lad. What else I done? I drunk pretty much every Inn and tavern out a ale a time or two. I gonner be askin ter be paid in a different way then most o yer mens does I thinks. I, I uh also hunted an made weapons o me own out in the mountains. Not easy ter do, I kin tell ye. I also wrestle Clyde or mens fer gold, but thass jest so we kin eat an drink, lad."

He squints his eyes, like he has a headache but returns to normal. "Hung over aint the best but the ale twer fine! Now, I fights with two axes. Clyde is included in my deal ter help ye. An ter be paid, I wants to start me own brewin an I needs gold fer that. Magga down at tha pub kin vouch fer me. She almost bested me in a wrasslin match! Fine lass, that one. Now, thass what I done in me travels n experiences, Mr Renn lad."

He stretches and yawns, then rubs his belly. "I'm hungry!"

[Adam]

Cormac scratches his beard for a moment thoughtfully.

"Al'righ, here's the plan. Ned, Hobb, you an' the lads stay here, bows drawn an' ready to lay down coverin' fire if we need it. Foerde an' I'll try to creep up to the gate. Any sign o' trouble an' you let fly an' we'll book back here to cover. Agreed?"

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

He nods, listening to the dwarf's tales of experience. "Goblins, eh? That's how I got my own start. Nasty little sods, easy to think they're no trouble until two or three of them are on you, trying to cut you a new windpipe. I think you're our man, Turfur, or dwarf as the case may be. As for the brewery, I'm sure something can be worked out."

Then turning to Roald, he says, "A group of raiders sounds like a fine idea. We need to do -something- with our prisoners, and getting them out of our hair and onto the warpath might just do the trick. Hell, a little military training might do a few of them good. So I'd advise you to go ahead and begin rounding up and training your raiders."

"But you should know, where your raiders go might not be that simple. I'd love to send them into Alamie, to burn their farms and draw out their forces piecemeal. But there's also the threat of goblins up north. For all I know, my lord father may already be back in fox run, buggering some would-be goblin prince with its own scepter. But if not..."

He shakes his head. "My place is here in Haes, with the watch. Alamie is my first priority. But when I think of those wretched goblins, tearing through the town that was once my own. It makes me want to ride out myself and torch the lot of them."

Another shake of the head. "But we don't know any of that yet. Point is, we need raiders, and you have my full support raising the troops. Where we send them is something we can decide once they're trained."

"Until then, I suggest we take Torthur's suggestion and find some breakfast."

[Varrus the Ethical]

Roald nods. "Breakfast is a fine idea, Captain. Though I insist that when the raiders are ready, I be allowed to lead them into Alamie. We need to keep Carlion from reorganizing his forces for as long as possible while this goblin invasion is dealt with. That's the only way we're going to win this two-front war."

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

Renn inclines his head to one side. "There's wisdom in that. Still, the thought of goblins in Fox Run burns me up. Maybe I'm sentimental." A pause, the a quick laugh. "No, that's shit. I hate Fox Run, but it's –my- land to hate!" Granted, his Lord Father and passel of brothers would have to die before it would ever be his, but that was a mere detail.

He runs a hand over his face, and for a moment glances at the brandy bottle before returning his attention to Roald. "But I think you're right. None of us think Carilon's bid for peace is anything but a feint. We need to keep him on his toes. Keep all that lovely grain of his from feeding a new army. Besides, goblins yield little plunder, little loot to keep up morale. The boys will have much more fun in Alamie."

"And we do want to keep Carilon busy." He looks down to the map on his table, to the lands west of Tuornen. "And there is little room to doubt that The Manslayer watches us now, waiting for a time to strike. That…thing would love to make this a war on three fronts, I'll wager. Better to keep Alamie spooked, keep them from hemming us in again."

[steveflam]

"Persnally I much rather kill some gobbies. But if ye wantin me ter kill some Alamie fer good reason, I kin do that too. Clyde 'n'
me usually compete who be killin tha most ter see whos be drinkin tha most. Plus it might be fun ter steal a barrel or two of ale jest fer that hell of it!"

[Varrus the Ethical]

"Let me loose on the plains of Alamie with a company of light cavalry, and I can keep Carlion plenty spooked." Roald chuckles, "All this talk of war makes me hungry. To breakfast, then? I'm sure Torthur could use a morning drink."

[steveflam]

Torthur's stomach growls loudly. He pats it with affection "Yeah, I need me breakfast an a hot beverage lads."

By now, Clyde is awake and sitting up, sniffing and looking around. "Awright ye pig, come n follow me we gonner git some grub. Ab behave
else I tie you up n leave you outside." The bear just grooms itself and moves to be next to Torthur.

[RocEter]

Cormac scratches his beard for a moment thoughtfully.

"Al'righ, here's the plan. Ned, Hobb, you an' the lads stay here, bows drawn an' ready to lay down coverin' fire if we need it. Foerde an' I'll try to creep up to the gate. Any sign o' trouble an' you let fly an' we'll book back here to cover. Agreed?"

"We should stay in cover and sneak around to the front gate before exposing ourselves. If there is a gate guard I will can make the necessary challenges to make sure they are priests and not bandits disguising themselves as priest." Foerde says.

"If they be goblins though best to bug out quickly. Don't worry though I have keen sense for when danger is about strike."

[Adam]

Cormac nods, dismounting and handing tossing the reigns to Dietric. "Have 'er ready to run in case we gotta make a quick exit," he growls.

He pulls his bow and arrows over his shoulder and hooks his handaxe to his belt, leaving the spear lashed to the saddlebags. He then gives Foerde a nod. "I'll follow yer lead on this. Ye know the place better'n I do."

He then crouches and follows Foerde's stealthy path to the gates.

[RocEter]

Stalking through the woods, trying to be as stealthy as he can, Foerde moves toward the main gate. "Haven't been to this temple in years." He says to Cormac after they have left the group.

"Just so you know, I ain't the stealthiest of men." He says.

[kintire]

Safana slithers lithely up next to Gunnar and rests her lips a few inches from his ear, her whisper pitched to carry no further than those inches.

"I can hide us from the Goblins, but that wolf may still scent us. I could scatter them or distract them... or roast them!"

[ewancummins]

OUTSIDE THE MONASTERY WALLS

Stalking through the woods, trying to be as stealthy as he can, Foerde moves toward the main gate. "Haven't been to this temple in years." He says to Cormac after they have left the group.

"Just so you know, I ain't the stealthiest of men." He says.

Cormac and Foerde move forward, out of the boulders and into a little field of tree stumps and gravel pits that separates their erstwhile hiding place from the monastery walls.

Foerde’s hackles rise as he gets close to the gate. He feels his guts twist and tighten. Maybe his sudden tenseness warns Cormac, or maybe the druid acts on his own instincts.

Cormac, moving with little sound, slides into a deep divot where a stump had been (pulled up by the monks, maybe, or blasted loose by a mountain storm). From this angle, he ought to be hidden from watchers on the wall.

Foerde was telling the truth—he’s not very stealthy. A watcher on the wall near the gate spots him and calls down in a harsh voice with a guttural accent- “Hey you, stop!” Looking up, Foerde sees under the hood an ugly, gray-skinned face with jaundiced eyes and a wide needle toothed grin. The robed figure points its spear at Foerde “Who are you? ”

Just now, there are only three figures visible on the wall. The other two robed walkers haven't yet reacted to the central figure's challenge to Foerde.

If any have spotted Cormac, they give no sign of this...