Norwick's envoys and the goblins of the West Rawlins
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"Ok, we start vith vhat closest, ja? Let's finish clear throne rock from weeds, and start tearing avay vines from pillars too, in case there might be hidden message on them. After that, we make way to slippi rocks if we kan, not sure juss how slippi they be. We don't vhant to fall headlong into lots death, but maybe from there see vhere pretti stones might be!"
Ragnhild grins wide, clearly excited about the prospect of getting somewhere with the search. She heads immediately over to the pillars, using a fine dagger to carefully cut the clinging vines loose, exposing the stone beneith.
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_…meanwhile not too far away, the dwarf tracking the party and his 'subjugated' squire find ways to pass the time.
A variety of topics are discussed as they wait for the rag-tag party to finish their debate.
Few topics are of mutual interest, until the topic of hin tossing is mentioned in passing by the dwarf.
At this, his squire becomes curious asking about all the details of the 'sport'. Its form, its lore, the curious fact that the more ales consumed makes one better at the sport. What really gets the greenskin's curiosity is the seemingly sanctioned action of throwing a hin over a wall or for distance, without fear of being jailed or without caring for the safety of the halfing.
Curios the greenskin rests on a log asking various questions of the dwarf, seeking more knowledge about the sport._
"Howz one goeses about grabbing halfing with purposes to throw far?"
Sensing the increased interest, the dwarf turns from watching the party motioning and walking around a hill, and looks at his new squire with a raised eyebrow.
"By deh belt anna deh scruff of der hair if dey wearing a shirt, er by deh neck of der shirt if dey is. Eer let me shows yeh…"
_With that the dwarf finds a hin size log, the weight irrelevant to the arms and hands of the dwarf, their strength forged for years of swinging a hammer against an anvil. Quickly he ties two pieces of rope, approximately where the neck and waist would be. He grabs both ends of the rope, and begins to swing it.
As his swing picks up pace and strength, he resembles one dwarf battering ram. The dwarf's breathing setting the pace for the swing.
Done he drops the log._
"Yeh care teh try? Yeh a bit skinny fer tossin a hin, unless of course yeh speakin of tossin in a bardic manner.." A quick chuckle at the joke "…but carryin me shite through deh woods goin teh help yeh with that."
_The gobber shrugs and takes off the pack, leaning it against a tree for the time being. Under the eye of the dwarf, he grabs the log and begins to swing it awkwardly. He tries to control it, but his arms and hands just aren't up to the task. As the log gains speed and momentum, it finally pulls the goblin towards a tree, his hand caught in the rope.
The log pulls him face first into the tree and then to the ground, his hand still firmly tied to the log._
"Holy shite! Yeh deh worst lumberjack me as eer seen! ARR ARR ARR!"
The goblin lay on the ground for a moment, listening to the dwarf's laughter. Hearing the occasional knee slap. But at the sound of the axe being driven into the log, freeing his hand from the log, his eyes went wide and he was awake. Slowly he stood and muttered, rubbing his aching face.
"Nae worry lad… We get yeh in shape teh throw a hin... Anna nae any hin, fat un too.."
The dwarf looked around on the ground quickly for two similar weight rocks, and picked them up. Then he made his way to the greenskin.
"Get yeh pack back on…. Now hold dese rocks, un in each hand.."
The greenskin pulled the pack back on and took the rocks. The weight pulling his arms towards the ground.
"Carry em until dey is light, den we get yeh summa heavier ones."
The dwarf's eyes look toward the group and he motions.
"Best get ready… Dey appear to ave made un decision.."
_The goblin took a deep breath and started to follow, rocks in hand. After a bit, the greenskin got the idea to make the sound of a horse, banging the two rocks to a tempo akin to a trot.
He smiled as he thought the dwarf pretended to ride a horse, but quickly stopped as the dwarf held up a finger to shush him._
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Naw kin I think these beh all tuh close together teh beh dat far away.
Meh think dis beh un map o just dis 'ere near area. da slippy stones right 'ere near the crown und da pretty stones.
Well Ragger mebbe yuh should go tuh each spot und see if'n anythin occurs tuh yuh?
Oy und think like un gobber aye.
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it seems that "Lots death" and "pretty stones" are the next places we should look for. Lots-death from the goblin view could be the Norwick gates smirks, or perhaps the graveyard?
Pretty-stones… could be those blue shards that stick out of the ground near Tindra's home in the near-west woods?
Both seem to be in the same direction... what do you think?
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"Uhm, we look for vay for me to prove myself vorthy of leading gobbalin tribes. Instructions say that vhen I am redi follow Grahk, I go to place vhere axe of chieftain's daughter hide. There, I find map, which lead us here. I am not sure if we supposed to find an object like maybe actual crown, or if it is knowledge we seek, or ritual that need perform for me to take chieftain's place. Maybe each symbol mark both place and test of sort, for all I know, huh. At least now hopefully we have proper bearings, to know vhere all places relate to each other better."
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Belin looks up at Ragnhild and then to Dwin's face
Aye whut weh lookin fer again?
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As Tindra climbs back down to report several hills in the vicinity, Ragnhild gives a small grunt and starts pacing around the clearing while thinking out loud:
"All we need is to find one morr spot that seem clear, maybe then it vill all make sense, ja? I have no doubt that this is right place, my heart and mind both agree on that. Let's think now.. firrst thing that strike my eye about map vhas hook and crown symbol, so maybe best start there, huh? Hook is vhat made me think of this place, of meat hooks from pillars here.. maybe it is as simpel as that? Hook symbol is here, at circle and stone pillars, and crown symbol be right next.. could be throne stone, maybe?"
The tall warrioress stops her pacing to stare scrutinizingly at the now partially cleared rock where Grahk once sat, then to the pillars and over at the ridge. Long legs bring her quickly back to the holder of the map for comparison, light blue eyes darting up and then back to the map before she grins with a certain degree of confidence. A calloused fingertip points out the symbols in question, giving NSWE bearings.
"Look, seem to fit pretti good, ja? Circle and stone, close together.. slippi rocks off to side there. Let's assume those be correct bearings and see vhere that leads us!"
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_As the armored dwarf peers at the rag tag group, the sounds of a small group or goblins barging through the brush behind him changes his focus.
He gaze falls upon the the smallish frame of the goblin he tricked into thinking he was being branded, with two larger greenskins standing behind him holding some rough studded clubs._
"Youuz remembez me? Me no no swing starings at skies no mores! When we done wit youz, youz wish you stay in youz cave…"
With this last statement, the two larger goblins laugh roughly, their eyes narrowing as they prepare to dish out a beating. The smaller goblin holds them back for a moment, as clearly he is enjoying the taunting.
"Cave dwellerz no so smart walking in woodz alone!"
Again the goblins break into laughter. The gaze of the dwarf goes to his axe, glistening as it leans up against a nearby tree. The smallish goblin follows his gaze.
"Youz wants youz axe? Tsk Tsk! Too far.."
With that he dispatches one of his goons to retrieve it.
"Oh me would nae touch if me was yeh.. Me axe nae a toy fer anyun teh play wit.."
_The dwarf warned warily. But his warning was laughed off, the larger goblin making his way confindantly to the axe, picking it up as if it was his all along.
But as he brought the axe up from the ground, the color drained from his face, the normal green color draining quickly to a dull grey. His eyes clouding over as he fell to the ground, lifeless before the axe made it to waist height._
"Well…. It appear yeh friend der nae of line Steelbrow.. Shame.. Me wus rootin fer him... Really wus..."
With that last statement the dwarf began a low and deep chuckle, as he muttered in a gutteral tone that the goblins could not understand.
"Stinky.. Say allo…"
_With this the other larger goblin entered a rage, bringing his club up to swing it at the dwarf. But try as he might he was unable to swing it downwards. Some power was holding the club back.
The goblin looked over his shoulder to see a large undead holding the other end of his club. The undead then proceeded to say "allo" as instructed, knocking the goblin to the ground by striking it in the head with its own club._
"Bah, we has teh werk on yeh social skillz. A simple nod er maybe un pat on deh shoulder would ave sufficed."
_The small goblin was still standing in their midst, ignored, trembling, stunned by the wasted form of the one goblin in to one side of him, and the unconcious and bleeding form of the other at his feet.
His bravado gone, the small greenskin trembled as if it was natural to do so.
Suddenly the dwarf addressed him._
"Hand me, me axe aye?"
The goblin started to sniffle as he trembled and slowly began to move towards the axe, still in the dead grip of his goon. The dwarf interrupted him just as he was reaching for it.
"Ahh me juss farking wit yah!"
_With that he slapped his knee and laughed heartily looking at Stinky as he did so, who seemed somewhat amused even though his face was devoid of expression. The small goblin joined in the laughter hopeful that he might still live.
Suddenly the dwarf's face grew dark._
"But pick up me shite… Me is gettin tired of carryin me pack through dese woods...."
_The small goblin quickly loaded himself up with the pack, struggling at first under the weight. Although it was hard to tell if his legs were trembling from the fright or the weight, it passed with time.
Saying a quick prayer to his dead companions, he scampered off following the dwarf, who had retrieved his axe and was strapping it to his back.
Another plan gone awry, but hey at least he wasn't dead._
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:: climbing a tree looking for hills yeilds several::
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After clearing the worst of the weeds from the circle and the stone to the south of it, Ragnhild joins the others to stare at the map again. Assuming all words are translated and read to her, the tall blonde would jab a fingertip at the "F" symbol, then point over at the four pillars with a questioning look.
"Gobbalin kind not realli known for have verri high standards of beauti, perhaps is as simpel as these pillars being pretti stones? Other than that, menhir stone vould maybe be count as pretti, but none such near, right? Oh, and these wiggli lines here, maybe that be river? And birds nest vith eggs.. Tindra kan look high up for such, maybe? Maybe hill be as simpel as being ridge itself, the part not fallen down and become slippi rocks?
I know am poor at map reading, riddels and such, but I have strong feeling all symbols here be relate to this area.. though kannot say vhy feel such certainty of it."
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grunts looking at the map and dwin
Dat beh mostly south und a little east aye? sucks on her teeth and strokes her meager chin hairs
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With the excitement of finding one of the cryptic locations on the goblin map, Tindra seems more interested in what's going on. Though her instincts still whisper in the back of her mind about being followed, her feline curiosity is obviously driving her now.
"I suppose what we need to do is now try to find another location from the map. We've got one, but we still don't know which direction on the map is north. If we can find another landmark, we'll have our bearings."
She thinks for a moment while looking over Dwin at the map. Suddenly, she seems to have gotten an idea and looks for a tree (preferably) or high rock to climb. Once she is high above the ground, she tries looking around. "Now where's the hill?"
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(( Salsa's impromptu map
HB
C||****
S
F
X
NWR**
GM*****
**************************************************Q
H- looks like a hook
C- looks like a crown
N - lots of bluish dots in a jumble
||- two lines intertwining with red dots
G - looks like a scared face
W - several wiggly lines
F - goblin words 'pretty stones'
X - goblin words 'lots death'
M - looks like a hill
Q - pair of daggers crossed
R - 'dog' shapes
B - bird nest with eggs
S - goblin words 'slippy rocks' ))
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Dwin asks to look at the "map" again and points to the different areas on it, in relation to where they now stand.
Slippy Rocks… Here's the water...
He looks at the map, then looks around several times…
We must be gettin close to the right spot here… where's the crown in relation to where we are now?
((without knowing where these things are on the document, its hard to know what comes next. What's the next object on the map that we'd be able to identify in relation to the slippy rocks?))
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belin grunts looking the rock slide pulling out a mining pick and a small shovel
Weh supposed ta dig now? handing the shovel to Ragn here Ragger, meh bust soem a rock und yuh tackle da mud aye? or are weh nay supposed tuh dig?
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"Ooohh.. ja! That must be it, slippi rocks! Ridge had not fallen down in this vay vhen I last saw place, so no vonder I did not think of it."
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Dwin looks from Raghnild to the landslide and back again, pointing at the rocks.
Slippy rocks?
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Upon arrival at the sacred circle, Ragnhild grows very quiet, almost distant, seemingly lost in memories as she walks slowly around the circle. Touching a hand to one of the pillars, she stops, bright tears welling in her blue eyes, spilling openly down her cheeks. Her voice is hoarse when she finally finds it, emotions clearly overwhelming the warrioress in this place.
"Here is vhere stand on my wedding day, all those years ago… there Grahk sit, on stone that now kan hardly be seen. Shamans and warrjors line circle, frends watching.. Zoma put to test after test for marry chieftain's daughter. Fighting bear in nothing but wedding suit, bearing weight of boulder, hang from meat hooks and even fight Grahk himself for my hand."
Ragnhild's strong, calloused fingers caress the fine golden bracers circling her wrists, tracing the twirling pattern of the golden wire and the outline of the various precious stones set in it as she speaks.
"My test then vhas to not interfere, to stand still and not help, even vhen think Zoma need me, or vould die infront of my eyes… it maybe the hardest thing I ever had to do. That vhas for chieftain's daughter.. for chieftain to become self, I know not the proper rituals."
Her eyes slowly focus back to the present, tears drying as she looks around the circle anew, noting all the changes with a look of growing concern.
"I see now vhat Sqee mean by old ways fading, this place have not seen use in manni years, from looks of it. I vill clear some weeds, if rest of you take look around for things to compare vith map. No slip on rocks near ridge there, looks like landslide risk.. "
With that slightly maternal warning, Ragnhild sets about clearing weeds, grasses and brambles from the circle and the stone south of it, working tirelessly to bring back a semblance of the sacred place's old order.
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After several days travel the party arrives at the Sacred Goblin Circle. Little seems the same, though the four pillars still stand stoically near the shore they are now covered in vine which are now just beginning to bloom with small red flowers filling the air with a sweet coying smell. The circle in the middle of the stones is no longer cleared of weeds. Brambles and long grasses cover the area almost completely obscuring the block of stone that Grahk once sat upon to the south of the circle. Where once a sense of sanctity once was now just a feeling of ruins persist. The river seems as it was to the east and the ridge to the west has partially fallen down in a small landslide.
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_The dwarf peers at the group, curious at their sudden excitement. His furrowed brow quickly turns into an "oh shite!" look as the Cat Lady points in his direction.
Looking for cover and scrambling to get out of the area quietly, the dwarf quickly makes his way perpendicular to where she was pointing, making sure he is downwind.
Once a better spot is found he quietly pants out dwarven insults as he opens a bottle of ale to settle himself down._
