Nicholas de Courcy
de Courcy takes a swing from the offered skin.
“It’s a shame it’s no older than a lamb,” he says with an exaggerated wince. “Still, any port in a storm.”
He hands the skin back to Jibril.
"Not sure I’d hit much in this light. Maybe we patrol a perimeter, meet back near the camp every couple of circuits for a swig of wine for warmth.
“My turn next, I have a bottle that’s from a very fine year,” he grins. “This one.”
GM POST
Morning arrives without incident; as the sun wakes the sleepers, you note Jibrīl and de Courcy strolling around the camp, surprisingly cheerful and flush-faced.
Below you, a gentle breeze stirs the grass that covers the ruins. Although mostly level, there are a few depressions and hillocks here and there.
Thwip
After shaking his three hours of sleep off and taking care of the morning business…
– I’d give my right buttock for something cleaner and more comfortable than this shrubbery and moss.–
… Thwip grabs the (pemmican and hard tack?) offered to him, gulps down enough to get him through to the next meal, and follows it with a mouthful of water. He gargles, swishes, and swallows because that would be a waste of water.
Squatting down in the camp, he unscrews the air canister from his rifle and pulls out the pump.
“Ifin ye all could tell t’ centers t’ not attack fir t’ next little while tat’d be good.”
He attaches the nozzle to the end and begins pumping. Fipp. Fipp. Fipp. A memory of his shooting instructor mocking him rises unbidden. “Thwip Fipp? Thwip the Fipper, we’ll call you.” He doesn’t suppress it, preferring to let his hatred of the man motivate him to finish the job more quickly.
“Tere used t’ be a small buildin’ in t’ paintin’ near here. I dowt it’d be anyting but mite be worth a minnit t’ look at. Mite be an emergincy exit ifin this place had inny. I ain’t seein’ nothin’ big’nuff t’ be a collapsed entrance t’ a fort hereabout but we kin take a poke at tat too.”
Fipp. Fipp. Fipp. Fipp.
“Ten we should hed up t’ t’ ruins, methinks. Less tere’s a better idea.”
– Thwip the Fipp. Fipp this you old melon-faced…–
Fipp. Fipp. Fipp. Fipp. Fipp. Fipp. Fipp. Fipp.
Blue Hawk
Hawk protests briefly when Lord Arron suggests that he sleep through the night, but not too much: it is, in fact, true that if he wakes up tired, it will affect his stamina for calling the spirits for the whole day.
When Hawk awakes the next morning, he does so feeling refreshed; he is not bothered in the slightest by the uncomfortable sleeping position or lack of a fire, as he has had to deal with far worse in his travels.
The shaman gets up, stretching his limbs out, and then turns to the others. Everyone seems to be awake already, excepting perhaps Ranar, who is on the other side of the carriage and not visible from where the tribesman is standing.
“I wish to run for waking up; does anyone want to come with me? I will go to the top of the hill, see if there are centaurs in sight, and then run around the hill a few times. Maybe we will see an entrance.”
Ranar Bolijyr
Ranar gradually awakens to the sounds of the others going about their morning activities like a bunch of chirpy dew-covered chipmunks. After a few minutes he rolls over, slides his crystal into a pocket, and sits up, yawning and stretching. Standing up takes a few more minutes. While eating a quick breakfast, he looks down at the ruins below and around at the horizon. Today should be interesting. Breakfast done and beginning to feel alive again, he tends to the horses while the others get ready.
He nods at Thwip’s plan. “Sounds good.”
Blue Hawk’s suggestion of a run, on the other hand, elicits a laugh and a smile. “Eh, ye’ve seen me run. I’ll stay here and not slow ya down.”
Jibrīl Al-Las’as
Good morning! No run for me, but coffee would be good.
@nimelennar @Daaksyde @Mitchell @William_George @daneel
GM SCENE
Getting no volunteers to join him in his morning exercise, Hawk sets out alone.
The run to the top of the hill is steep enough on the grassy slope, and steeper still on the crumbly chalk layer. Instead of attacking it directly, Hawk circles around to the back of the hill, where the chalk layer is thinner.
The view from the summit is panoramic; the ruffled hill country stretches far in all directions. The trail in is hidden somewhere to the east.
Aside from the occasional small animal burrow, little is visible apart from attractive scenery. The view down towards the ruins shows their outlines clearly; a large rectangle, a gap, a circle of stone, then a larger gap to a smaller, squarer rectangle.
~
Back at camp, Thwip, Ranar and Jibrīl wander towards the ruins, coffee mugs in hand, while de Courcy appears to doze off next to the kettle. A small fire during daylight was not considered an excessive risk when compared to the benefits of morning coffee.
The ruins are nothing more than foundation stone outlines amongst grassy tussocks. Although mostly level, small hillocks and depressions are scattered about the place, as is the occasional patch of wildflowers.
Thwip
sip
“Some 'effin good coffee, eh?”
sip
Blue Hawk
Hawk returns to the camp site, slightly winded, but otherwise invigorated. He likes this place much better than Tredroy; the air is cleaner, the nights are darker, and the animals roam freely.
The tribesman walks towards the others; he’s still not smiling, but he seems to be in a better mood than you’ve ever seen him.
“I saw no centaurs from atop the hill, but I was not able to see much down the road. Also no sign of entrance; if it is where I was running, it is well hidden.”
Returning to the carriage, the shaman retrieves his belongings and takes a swig of water from his waterskin. “Should we post a man at the top of the hill to keep watch for centaurs, or stay together?”
Thwip
In response to Blue Hawk, Thwip shakes his head. “I don’ tink any of us shoult be alone rite now. T’ centers r’ faster 'n us.”
Thwip sips on his coffee and thinks.
– If they dug a hole in the ground through the chalk and whatever else, that earth would need to be dumped. Hmm.–
He asks everyone, “Dit anyone r’member t’ pack a spade? I wanta chek sumting.”
Jibrīl Al-Las’as
Ranar has a pick, I believe.
Ranar Bolijyr
“Aye, but a pick won’ move much dirt.” Ranar illustrates, poking the pick into the earth and tilting it so that about a finger’s-width slice of dirt moves.
“Arron said was not a fighting fortification, but a place to store troops and weapons out of sight. I think most likely entrance would be just a stairway down inside one or more of the buildings. Probably at least two, so troops could come out either building as needed.”
Thwip
“T’ bad. I was tinkin that we’re sitting on t’ earth tey dug up. Lookin’ atit may give us a cloo ‘bout howfar down we may hafta look by t’ typesa rocks tey dumpt. An ifin we foun’ sum tools we kin figur how it wus dug an how t’ door was built. I’m worried we gottah look fir a magik door which’ll be much harda t’ find.”
Downing the last of his coffee, Thwip stretches his back. Rolls his neck. Gives a resigned sigh.
– No time for proper archaeology. I like proper archaeology.–
“Awell. Were not gone t’ find anyting sittin’ here. Shalwe go?”
Jibrīl Al-Las’as
Perhaps our employer might have some idea about how to find and open this door? This is his expedition, is it not?
Ranar Bolijyr
Ranar nods at Jibril’s suggestion. “Let’s ask.”
@nimelennar @Daaksyde @Mitchell @William_George @daneel
GM SCENE
Aronn is curled up under a blanket in the corner of his carriage, simultaneously coughing, shivering and sweating. Upon being quizzed, he testily responds “yes, yes, the entrance should probably be somewhere within the footprint of the buildings, in what remains of their basements.”
Thwip
The goblin says nothing as the others decide to bother his lordship. His suspicions of the cursed pinkie have coalesced into a ball of dislike. He hasn’t decided on how to deal with whatever it is Aronn is actually looking for. He refuses to believe it’s something beneficial to the world. Since Aronn feels he has to be present it suggests that it’s too valuable… or perhaps too powerful… for him to trust Thwip and the others with it while he waits in his sick bed.
Mayhaps he feels it can cure him of his curse? That would make his actions understandable. Thwip hates not having answers but for now he will have to bide his time and hope for a solution to his questions before it becomes a problem.
“Is lordship an t’ horsis are a bit exposed ‘ere. Mebee we kin eiter try t’ bring ‘em up t’ hill so we kin keep an eye on tem while we look fir holes. But ifin y’ like, me an whoever hassa good eye fir detail kin invesitgate while t’ otters stay behind and guard?”
Thwip scratches his chin and thinks for a second. There is always a need for more information.
“Blue Hawk, how’r you with workin’ wit the creatures under t’ eart’? Kin tey tell you tings like were stonework is or issat too much fir tem?”
Blue Hawk
Hawk thinks a lookout would be useful, but doesn’t argue with the decision to stay together. It would certainly give them a better ability to provide defense. He resolves to keep his spear close at hand.
When the green-man asks about talking to the creatures underfoot, he thinks for a moment before answering. Does the green-man mean “speak with them,” or “command them,” or “see through their eyes,” or “inhabit their spirits?” He is unsure, so he decides to give the answers to each.
“Tell? No. Some shamans know how to ask the spirits to speak to beasts in their own tongue. I know it not. Small crawling things cannot say much that is useful, either. They do not think much, do not remember much.”
The green-man looks disappointed, so Hawk raises his hands in a “wait a second” gesture. “I may do other things, though. To command one or even many small crawlers to do the spirits’ will, I can do easily. To see through a crawler’s eyes, harder. To make my spirit one with the crawler, as I did with the bird, is harder still. It is just as hard with crawler as it is with a bird.” The shaman reconsiders this. “Almost as hard, as crawlers are near and do not have to be called as the bird was.”
Hawk thinks for a moment. “I could ask them to crawl through, loosen soil to make it easier to dig. Besides that, I do not know how crawlers will be helpful.”
Thwip
Thwip nods as he listens to Blue Hawk’s explanation.
“Sounds logikal. Ifin teres time after were done tis adventure I’d like t’ ask more bout tis subjikt. But I guess were gon t’ haf t’ look t’ ol’ fashind way…”
Thwip pats around in his pockets. Feeling for the device that he tries not to use too often for the mysteries of how it works vexes him. He knows the air he breathes cannot be seen except in cold weather. He cannot see the bullet of his gun move but he can see the results when it hits.
– Don’t dwell on it now. People need your help today.–
He knows there are countless things invisible to the eye in God’s creation. But no matter the conditions he examines it in, he cannot deduce how this device works. He finds it and smiles at the others as he pulls it out.
“Wit t’ science off dowsin’!”
He pulls out a small pendulum with the weight made of sky stone and holds it up for the others to see. He lets the pendulum swing. If the others are unimpressed, he doesn’t notice.
@nimelennar @Daaksyde @Mitchell @William_George @daneel
GM SCENE
Thwip wanders about the site of the nearest ruin, swinging his dowsing pendulum. Within the footprint, there are a couple of small hillocks and three depressions.
The hillocks and one of the depressions are on the eastern side, while the other two depressions lie in the centre and along the western edge, nearest your camp. There is a rabbit burrow near the northern wall, and an occasional bird swoops down to snatch an earthworm or beetle.
