Norwick's envoys and the goblins of the West Rawlins
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((if we want to rewrite this to somehow help Norwick with the Bugbears, thats fine with me!
))
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//Narfell and timelines being a mindwarping concept altogether, I'm willing to leave that up to you Salsa. The thread began way back when the eastern woods were crawling with tainted goblins though, so I had assumed to head roughly in that direction, unless we were to happen upon signs leading elsewhere. Wild stabbing in the dark here, basically
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(I am assuming this whole story is a flashback at this point since it happened during the tainted plot.. so i think "are and were" are probably the same. make sense?)
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(clarify, are you going to where they are or were?))
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Belin watches Rag's back as she begins to walk towards the cave mouth.
<d>I hope she doesn't mind when this spitter fellow spits his last. Farkin green skin.
mutters about keeping up and being out of ale as she trots off after the long legged woman.</d>
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to Belin [d] soft and slow? this Spitter aint gonna even be able to spit when I take his green tongue from his throat…
to Rag
Don't worry about us, lass. We're guardin' the rear. Tell yer friend he's got little to worry about... fer now.
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Ragnhild nods to the goblins, ruffling Mark's matted hair affectionately as she translates to the others:
"Onli one vay out of cave, except river, Marrk say. No one ever khum back from there, so he no think Grahk vould tri such thing and leave behind those he seek to protect. Spitter eager to go split heads, so I say we go back vay we came, find us some demon gobbalins and maybe morr answers there. Tindra, you scout and sniff as we go and let us know if something stand out, ok?"
With that, the ever impatient barbarian hoists Mark up onto a muscular shoulder and strides back towards the winding tunnel leading out of the cavern. Glancing over her shoulder, she adds:
"Dwin, Belin - keep up! Spitter alredi suspect you soft and slow, not going to let him be right, are you?"
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:: Spitter looks at Rag and shrugs::
Spitter <g>No know, never look.
:: Breaking his silence Mark speaks up in an almost mumbling tone::
Mark <g>There just one way. There is river also,but no one ever come back from there. No think Grahk would try that and leave mothers and youngins behind.
:: Spitter grunts::
Spitter <g>so where Kal'Vargen camp, time feed axe.
:: Mark's face squishes in thought::
Mark <g>Dunno, only people know where either dead in cave or Grahk.
::shrugs::</g></g></g></g>
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Ragnhild just grins at Belin, blue eyes bright as she comments:
"Vhat we need now is good fajt.. luckili there be plenti Kal'Vargen to turn axes edge red, so how about we go find some? Goblin and dwarven axe all sing same song of death, you vill see!
Tindra, task for you be to tri find trace of warparti leaving cave, but we know vhas long ago, so no big hope. Still, best tri every vay we kan, huh? I vill ask Spitter some more things, then we leave. If no trace, vell.. we know vho ennemi be. So we kan juss ask them, vith speer, axe and magicks."
She turns back to Spitter, looking just as eager to start paying the blood debt as the goblin warrior himself. Shooting an encouraging glance to Mark, Ragnhild seems to invite the skinny goblin to help answer her questions too.
<g>"Before go, need know if there more than one way out of cave, for cat scout to find trail. Sqee tell us that tribe that is no tribe, or Kal'Vargen, do this. They now tri take all of Rawlins, with minotaur and demon on their side. I vish make sure we hunt right enemy, so I ask you both if this true."</g>
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Tindra watches Spitter with a keen eye as he tosses the piece of dried meat to her. She sniffs the meat with consideration. The prideful part of her wanted to turn down the offering; why should she stoop so low as to eat scraps from a greenskin? She gave one more glance at Spitter, then bent down and snapped the meat up. It was better that she not play the role of a bad kitty right now, she thought. Let the goblin feel he's earned some trust, and perhaps he'll be more likely to help Ragnhild.
Besides, she really needed that snack. Shapeshifting always makes her hungry.
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eyes spitter with a certain amount of disdain
Well Ragger, I dunnay like da look in hims eye. Dat un keeps given meh da look dat says, "meh wunt tuh stick my axe in yer head." Weh dids set out tuh help yuh find yer 'dopted da. I say let fishie pauses looking at the green spitter nay froggie, froggie better fer hims. let frogger there lead da way. Hims likeliest tuh know where they all falls back tuh if you ken my meaning.
mutters <d>wish that fart had been stinker. farkin goblin just let him try me kin and … seems to bite her tongue as she turns to look back down the cave mouth</d>
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Spitter seems to be keeping an eye on the big cat and fishes out some dried meat out of his pouch tossing it in front of the cat.
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Ragnhild grins at Dwin, silently pondering a diplomatic translation as she takes a deep gulp from the ale. After a long and thunderous belch, she speaks up:
"Spitter is eager for blood debt be payed, feel we have no time to lose. He vish we go find Grahk now, for his axe have been still too long. Juss tell vho to kill, and he do it. He seem to have doubts about strength of dwarven axe, for he ask you not to slow him down once battel khum our way. He no vish to have to save dwarf skin every time get in fajt, to translate correctli."
She grins even wider at that, adding:
"I think he soon see things diffrent, once axes start swinging, but for that to happen, we need find our ennemis, need find Grahk's trail. Trail is old and cold, but maybe kan still find some sign. I vhas thinking maybe Grahk and Axes too be turned to stone, and taken elsevhere. Or they give persuit and fall in ambush elsevhere, no know, but we do know my tribe no longer here, but for Spitter and Marrk, and the ones long dead. If nothing else, we have Kal'Vargen to kill, and manni of them.
Vhat say you rest, vhat next step to take?"
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((no worries its just that this thread is coming up on a year old in two more months… I'm looking forward to the end of the story arc and figuring out if it ties in at all to the story of the taint in the rawlins))
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//shrieks at the bumpage Alright, alright! Me and my brain are both in vacation mode, but returning home tomorrow evening, in likelyhood.. so hold your proverbial horses
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((I am waiting for PCs
))
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((BUMP))
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((FYI I am out of town for a week))
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Wha'd he say?
All this "icka icka" an him lookin at me is makin me nervous. What's he sayin?
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Spitter takes little time getting back to his feet and takes a long look at everyone present as if sizing them up. He stops for a second at Mark and shakes his head for a few seconds and sighs. Mark seeing the gaze looks down at his feet as if crestfallen. Chunks of white clay have fallen off giving the goblin the look of a well worn toy doll.
Spitter: <g>::gestures towards Mark:: Must been gone long time if him warrior. :: drinks from the ale:: Need get moving, think dwarf beginning to rot. ::looks to Rag:: So where is Grahk? Where we go get him? ::looks at his axe in his off hand longingly:: got blood debt to pay, them die today. ::spits on the ground::
Reacting to Spitter's words Mark begins to absently pick at his clay covering seemingly nervous.
Mark <g>Spitter it no….
Spitter glowers at Mark stopping him cold in mid sentence. Mark quickly looks away licking his lips as if at a loss for words.
Spitter <g>There blood to spill,no time for noise. :: looks back to Rag:: Jus tell who kill. :: takes another swig from the ale and hands it back to Rag:: and tell … :: looks at the dwarves for a second:: them, no slow Spitter down. No want have to be saving dwarf skin every time get in fight.
Spitter then places his axe in a harness on his back. He then goes to open a leather pouch at his belt. As he reaches his hand in he suddenly jerks his hand out stares at the pouch. Moment later a small fish jumps from the pouch and lands on the ground for a few flops before falling back into the water.
Spiitter <g>::mutters::</g></g></g></g>
