Journey Into the North

Alden, Valin, Sirloaz, and Tan'quin rode through the forest at a quick pace.

"How far until we reach the wards?" Valin asked.

"Not much further, there!" Tan'quin said. Ahead of them was a light red barrier that glowed faintly.

"If we ride through, it should trigger the wards," Sirloaz said.

The moon shone down on the clearing.

"All right then, let's ride," Valin said.

Valin led the charge. One by one the others went through. Alden charged in behind them. Without a warning, a bright light flashed around Alden, lighting up everything around him.

Alden stopped, the ward was gone. Valin and the others had stopped to turn.

"I didn't know you could perform magic," Valin said.

"I can't," Alden said. He looked down at the jewel, it was glowing a soft white.

"Maybe not," Valin said. He hesitated for a second, as if he wanted to say something more.

"We need to keep going. They'll think we have a mage here, so they're going to send a lot of troops here quickly."

With that, the others continued on.

Night finally consumed the group in darkness, splntered only by the faint light glancing off the moon. It gave a silvery hue all around, making the forest look like a black and white painting. Their horses moved at a moderate pace through the surroundings.

Finn suddenly lifted her hand into the air to signal a stop. "Thi' be were th' Blackwodes begin an' th' woods end."

"It's going to be more treacherous from now," Seraph called. "We'll need everyone to be on full alert -- we dont want to ride right into the middle of some Goblins. Once Finn can find us the best possible entrance to the Goblin encampment, we'll put together a plan of attack. Hopefully by then the others will have drawn out the main force and we won't have too much opposition."

"What if it don't work," Henry said, "And the Goblins only send out half their forces or somethin', and we gotta smash through a whole bloody army?"

Seraph hesitated for a moment. "We must pray that won't occur. If it does, Finn may be able to guide us another way."

"Too many mays and prayers for my liking," Cyrus grumbled.

"What else would you have us do?" Seraph asked, although it was clear from his tone that he thought there was no other answer. Maybe it is his confidence in Valin, Henry thought, or maybe he thinks he could never be wrong.

"Me n' Finn there could scout it out like," Henry ventured. "The camp, I mean. See 'ow many we be up against, rather than just tryin' to guess. I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not wanting to walk straight into a bloody massacre any time soon. 'Ow coud a little extra knowledge 'urt?"

Seraph didn't look convinced. "We should trust in Valin and the others," he answered. "Goblins are not overly intelligent -- if they sense someone trespassing, they will send out a large force to wipe them out, since they fight in hordes. We can conduct a prelimnary scout from the outskirts of the camp, to make sure some have left, and then we can trust in our swords and our hearts. Besides, your scouting will delay our attack, which could make the situation even more risky, since we need the hit the camp at the critical moment. And to add to that, you might be caught. Goblins aren't particularly merciless creatures -- they won't throw you in a jail and wait for you to be saved. They will simply carve every piece of flesh from your bones." He paused for a moment, satisfied with his conclusion. "No. If the Goblins sense someone is nearby their camp, some of the forces may be withdrawn from the attack on Valin's group and brought back here, which would only bar our escape route even more."

Henry grunted. "'Ave it your way then." He would say no more, but he wished he could add - for now.

"Does anyone else think attacking a Goblin camp with little to no knowledge of their forces is a bit suicidical?" Cyrus asked. "There could millions of 'em, and we wouldn't know. Believe me, laddy, I've fought Goblins all my life, and there's always more than you think there might be." The Dwarf stared at Seraph.

Seraph sighed. "There's no other way. It's too late to change the plan. Let's go going, before we delay any further."

Finn, who had been silent throughout the exchange, signalled the way forward. Ursa and Adrian, at the back, had said nothing either. The Paladin was suffering with his wound, and the bear looked out of place without Alden.

To be perfectly honest, Finn thought Seraph was a gormless, arrogant, trusting, bleedin' fool. There was no intelligence exhibited at all in his decision not to have Henry and Finn scout out the camp; sure, Goblins were stupid. Everyone knew that. But nothing short of a stone troll was stupid enough not to sniff around a bit before taking on an enemy better armed, better rested, and better fed than themselves. She spared a glance back for Adrian, then; how would the Paladin fare throughout the fight? She hoped Ursa kept close to him. She'd had enough of bodies over the last couple days.

Though it looked like she'd get even more of that before the night was out. She swallowed hard and subconsciously tightened her hold on the older man's waist. She'd never killed anything more than a couple of rabbits. And even though she'd said she wasn't about to kill anything unless it came right down to her or them... well, Seraph's comment about "carving flesh from bone" was sticking pretty vividly in her mind. Keeping a steady grip on the man in front of her, she checked to make sure that her quarterstaff was strapped securely across her back, and her daggers were still safe in their sheaths on her belt.

She tapped Seraph a moment later. “We shud g’wan by foot froom ’ere,” she breathed quietly in his ear, not willing to break a silence interrupted only by usual nighttime sounds and the fall of the horse’s hooves. He drew the horse up, and signalled for the others to do the same; she dismounted with all the grace of a scurrying squirrel.

“Henry!” she called in a stage whisper, motioning for him to join her. “Ye’re comin’ wit’ me.” She shot Seraph a challenging glance, though she was pretty sure he couldn’t see it in the dark. “Keep close, an’ keep tha’ bow o’ yers handy, ken?” Frankly, she still didn’t trust the thief, whether or not she liked him—but she did have a good deal of intuitive faith in his crossbow.

He nodded an affirmative, and might have said something, but by now the blood was rushing in Finn’s ears and she wanted nothing more than to run back and hide, gibbering, behind Seraph until all this was over. With one slightly shaking hand, she motioned Henry toward the camp.

All they had to do was find a way in. Then, of course, there was the small matter of destroying an entire battalion of Goblins, or however many there were, with the aid of a thief, a sanctimonious idiot, a giant bear who’d rather sleep than anything else, and a wounded Paladin. Odds an' embers. We’re a’ready dead.

The Priest sat there quietly. A goblin came up to him.

"Is der sometin wrawg?"

"Something just destroyed one of my wards. Right here," he said pointing at a spot on the map.

"A mage!"

"So it would seem. This bothers me immensely. We're pretty far from the roads and the towns, yet a mage and a few others have broken through here..." he stared at the map. He had been trained for tactics and strategy, yet he had never applied it before.

"What ord'rs d'you 'ave?"

He sat for a moment. The mage would be a tough enemy, but not invincible. Goblins were best in mass...

"How many goblins do we have?"

"One Hundred."

"Send fifty after the mage and his escorts. Put ten on the outside of the caves, and the rest should be hidden inside."

"Yes sah," the Goblin left.

The priest sat back. If he was to be attacked by a large group, he would be in trouble. Yet there were no reports of an army. So, it must be a small group.

If the first attack failed, then he could send out more reinforcements to mop them up. He could easily hold the caves with twenty goblins.

*Ursa, aka Podgy*

Okay. That was it. Everybody here was a moron, and by everyone, I mean everyone. And by everyone, I mean...you get the picture.

So. Apparently we were going to attack a bunch of goblins. Just run out and attack them. A hundred to one, most likely. I turned to Seraph. "Lord highness, I said, hopefully sounding polite. He seemed to be the one in charge. "No offense or anything, but isn't this a completely ridiculous idea?"

He stared at me.

Humans.

I decided to put on my cute looking face. You know... well, actually, you don't. Let me try to describe it to you. It looks like my regular face, all handsome and everything, except my eyes look like they're bugging out. Actually, it rather looks like I'm being strangled. Humans, for some reason, think this looks cute.

"We have one human injured and it's not looking good. Instead, why don't we surrender?"

His eyes narrowed. "Surrender? You must be joking."

"Actually, no. When we go there to negotiate terms of peace, we can kill their leader." When he frowned, I added, "Goblins aren't that bad. They don't look human, but that's a good thing. They follow a leader, and if they don't have one, they'll acccept the killer of the leader as their new leader. That way, it's a win-win situation!"

He looked unconvinced. Most likely, he was thinking it was a dishonorable situation, like all humans did. But then his eyes glanced over the "warriors" we had. It didn't really look good, I thought.

"I'll think about it," he said before walking away.

Adrian was scared, this plan was sucidal. The memories kept flashing back of the worthless slaughter. He was just so nervous he tried to meditate to heal forgetting everything. Untensing every muscle, but the memories were flooding back more faster than anything. He sighs and tries again. He couldn't get relaxed, he was too nervous.

I felt like bashing my head against a wall.

I had a Paladin who looked like he was about to wet his pants, a woman with little or no combat experience, a huge, talking BEAR (who, admittedly, would be useful in the upcoming battle), a sneak, and a dwarf. Not exactly a contingent of Blood Knights.

I scratched my beard as I watched Finn and Henry stalk off into the darkness. A plan was forming in my mind, even as the bear rambled over to me.

I listened to the bear as best as I could given the situation. His plan of capture and assassination was a sound one, but there were far too many factors he had not thought of.

I suspected that the goblins were not merely a tribe, ruled by a single chieftain. Were that the case, I'd have no trouble marching into the camp and challenging their leader to single combat. Wham, bam...thank you goblins.

The mere fact that they worked with imps is nothing to scoff at. Goblin shamans are not capable of summoning even a single imp, let along control one. They had scores of the things, and were working with them. There was a higher power at work.

I walked away form the bear. I respected the idea, but I didn't have enough time to bother explaining myself to a BEAR. I was frustrated, at that point. This whole group underestimated the power of a team.

Besides...they were goblins. They also had imps. Big deal. Cyrus' people had been fighting goblins for milennia, Adrian, despite his injury, was a powerful warrior in his own right, and the bear, was, well, a bear. And a damn large one at that. With paws the size of frying pans and teeth longer than a vampires...he would be devastating to the goblin ranks.

The element of surprise was our friend. Depending on the condition of the goblin encampment, we might be able to sneak in and slit the throats of their patrols, and then decimate their ranks with sheer ferocity. I would have to wait until Finn and Henry returned for their report. In the mean time, I continued to think of various strategies to combat the goblins for our only way through the mountains.

I hoped Valin and the others fared better.

(OOC: Hunter, I have been busy lately. I'll try and post tomorrow. If you want, either you or Grif may post for me until then)

The terrain was dangerous. Slippy rocks and jagged cracks were the first things that threatened the pair's safety, but Finn was a sound guide and knew the way to avoid the pitfalls. The pass was up ahead -- the moonlight allowed them to discern the sides of it, cutting through the mountain stone. Strangely, Henry figured, there were no fires or movement to be seen. They both noticed the grand tent in the centnre though, and the fence crudely assembled around the edge of the camp.

"Tha' don' look lik'any gooblins are aroound," Finn muttered, and Henry nodded in reply.

"I don't like it myself," he whispered back. "But we gotta go forward. There's precious little cover in the pass, but we should be able to stay 'idden in those rock formations. Problem bein', Goblins 'ave pretty sound night sight, so we gotta be right careful like."

Finn gave a him a grin. "Tha's alright, ye're talkin' bout Fionnabhair Chant, ere, quiet az a mouse!"

The pair darted out, across the ground, trying to make as little noise as possible. They rested again behind some rocks arching toward the night-sky, and Henry peered over, the blood pumping in his head, his heart beating fiendishly.

He thought he saw something.

It was small, and it was only there for a second.

"I got a bad feelin' about this," Henry said, feeling a chill down his back.

Finn said nothing. They both knew what they had to do, and intuition was on the back-foot for now; only courage and watchfulness could save their skins, get the information they needed and head back to the relative safety of the group.

Crouching, they ran once more from their cover.

And Henry saw the figure again. In fact he saw around thirty of them, dark-skinned, armed with spears, swords and arrows.

The thief pulled up his crossbow and fired, a bolt killing the Goblin nearest to him instantly. Strangely, the Goblins didn't return fire. Finn threw a dagger into the neck of one of the green beasts, and was holding tight onto her quarterstaff.

But there were just too many of them. They circled round, swords and spears pointing in towards the two, and even as Henry reloaded his crossbow in double-quick time, ready to kill another, he realised it was folly. The Goblins had never wanted to kill them, otherwise those arros would have found their mark long ago.

They wanted to capture the pair.

And they had.

"Odds an' embers... odds an' embers," Finn whimpered under her breath as the Goblins closed in around the erstwhile scouts. "Henry," she looked pleadingly at the man, fingers tightening around her quarterstaff. "Wha' 're they doin'?" she hissed.

"Shh," he hushed her.

"But--"

"Shut up!"

She whimpered again, retracting closer to the thief. Why weren't the Goblins firing back? Why did the keep closing in around them like that? Odds and embers--they were prisoners, weren't they? No--they were dead, weren't they? Panic rose like bile in her throat. She swallowed it back, resolving to at least put on a braver face. She took a few deep breaths as several Goblins came forward, ordering them to drop their weapons.

Slowly, Henry lowered his crossbow. Taking his lead, Finn dropped her sheathed daggers and after a moment of regret, let the quarterstaff drop to the ground.

"Come wifout fuss," the Goblin nearest to her growled, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. She shrieked and struggled, but the petite girl wasn't nearly a match for a fully grown Goblin; while he kept a hold on her, another bound her arms painfully behind her back. The sounds coming from Henry's direction told her that he was suffering the same rough treatment. A sharp point soon replaced the Goblin's hands on her back, and shoved her forward with a painful prod.

As the Goblins herded the two scouts back into the camp, Finn only hoped that Seraph and the rest would be able to stay free, and maybe save them. That, or that the Goblins would afford Henry and her quick deaths.

Alright everyone, here is the fully edited version of my characters profile. If you see anything you have a problem with, please tell me.

Full name: Carmenia (Car-mean-yuh) Virsetil

Gender: Female

Age: 426 (in elvish years, actually looks about 19)

Birthplace: She doesn't remember.

Race: Elf

Occupation: Jack-of-all-trades (though she's better at some than others)

Class type: Rogue

Appearance:
-Tall and slender
-Emerald green, bewitching eyes framed with long black eyelashes
-Has long, black, thigh-length hair that she lets fall in waves down her back
-Almost ivory complexion

Personality:
-Mysterious,
-Often unconsiously attracts men
-Puts up walls to avoid getting into a serious relationships
-Quiet yet will speak up if someone is doing something completely wrong
-Has a kind heart that is often hidden so not to reveal weakness

Abilities:
-Excellent with a bow and arrow
-Agile with quick reflexes
-Good horseriding skills
-Can fix a satisfying meal
-Climbs tree's very quickly

Clothing:
-Gold elvish earrings (with an emerald in the center of each)
-Green elvish womans shirt
-Green elvish straight leg pants
-Brown elvish leather boots
-Brown elvish cloth pack

Spells: She can warp and shape wood.

Weapons:
-Bow and arrow
-Dagger

Brief history:
-Does not know who her parents were, got lost in the woods when she was six and had to survive on her own until she stumbled upon strange group of travelers who brought her back to the caves where they lived. She lived with them until she was almost fully grown.

Alignment: Neutral Good

Adrian sat alone still failing to relax. He stood up "Hey everyone is it just me or have they been gone a very long time?", he said. Seraph stood up
"It has." Seraph continued. "I--"
Adrian interuppted "I think it safe to assume they were captured."
Seraph glared at him, for the interruption. " Army or not...if they've been captured we have to try to help them."

Ursa looked bemused "Well i can just imaige the results of that." Ursa said sarcasticly.
.
"What all the chatting for i've got me goblins to kill.", Cyrus said

Ursa growls "Do i need to explain the pure stupity of attacking a goblin army with only four people, you'd think it be pretty obvious."

Adrian looked around as both sides argued then hissed loudly "Quiet you can argue all night, but i've been a coward too long now, and i owe Henry my life, i'm going."

Ursa snarled "Do i need to bloody draw a picture it sucide."

"Ursa if every war was won with startastic you be a general. I refuse to leave without Henry and the girl. I will not have someone die because of my inaction."

(Stepping in for Dono, at his request)

Seraph stifled a sigh as Adrian and Ursa argued, discreetly rubbing his right temple as if to drive away an encroaching headache. "Would both of you please be quiet? We don't need to attract more attention." He paused, looking at them in the sudden (and sullen) silence; Cyrus didn't speak, but minded his own business with half an ear perked. "Now, I agree that something must be done to find out what happened to Finn and Henry, and to help them if it's at all possible, but there is no point--no, listen to me, Adrian--there is no point in bursting in there and getting captured ourselves."

Adrian glared at Seraph, who met his gaze coolly, with a lifted eyebrow. The Paladin looked away, jaw clenched, and Seraph took his silence for permission to continue.

"Now, we are not leaving without Henry and Finn if there is any chance of rescuing them without sacrificing the rest of the group, but going in there without a plan--and with a sorely-wounded Paladin to boot," he said, knowing the barb would strike home, "would indeed be suicide, as Ursa says.

"What we need..." he trailed off and chewed the inside of his lip thoughtfully. "What we need is a plan. And knowledge of how many Goblins there are, but obviously we can't risk obtaining that information... it cost Henry and Finn their freedom, and poss-ibly their lives." He cleared his throat, irritated at how his voice cracked.

"Ursa, Cyrus," he said. "Do either of you have any suggestions?" He pointedly did not look at the hot-headed Paladin; any fool worth his weight in sawdust should have more common sense than to even consider bursting into a Goblin encampment like that.

Well, I've been invited to this storybook by my main man Griff and I've read everything up to the point you're at. Here's my character...

Name: Damon (no last name due to memory loss)

Age: Unknown—possibly mid twenties

Gender: Male

Race: Man/Falcon- He can morph in-between at will.

Eyes: Gray

Height: 5’ 11”

Occupation: Bounty Hunter

Class Type: Scout/Mercenary

Weapons: Singular knife and significant prowess in martial arts. Great abilities in aerial combat.

Natural abilities: Morphing between human and falcon, immune to poison

Clothing: Wears leather armor to move about quickly. When morphing into a falcon the armor molds with his body, leaving the outlines of it as patterns upon his feathers.

Brief History: Damon was a bastard at birth and quickly developed a hate for the father that had abandoned him and his mother. He developed his boxing/martial arts through local fight clubs to provide money for him and his mum to survive. But, sadly, it was not enough and he came home one night to find his mother lying in her own pool of blood. Enraged by this he found the murderers and a fight ensued. The murderers did not live.

From then on, Damon became a mercenary and always kept to himself. Secretly, he still hated his father. Through his jobs, he searched for information that would lead him to his father. On one such job he was along Danabar Cliffs along the coast, the job was to assassinate the rogue leader of a band of goblins. He went into the tent of the leader but before he could drive his knife into the leader’s heart, the leader cast an unknown spell that turned Damon into a falcon. The leader quickly caught Damon and caged him. For years, Damon was caged as a falcon, at random times his body would try to morph back into human form, but it couldn’t do it in such tight quarters. Finally, the bandits got into a fight and Damon was set free. Being in falcon form for so long drove him mad and he lost considerable amounts of memory about himself. But he still knows some basics.

Falcon Permanent Effects: Falcon eyes-able to spot things from very far away

Alignment: Strict loyalty to friends of his whether they be good or evil. He hasn’t been treated well his entire life, so anyone who is friendly instantly gains a loyal companion.

(Some of the stuff is subject to change if you guys think it needs to be. I only wrote it up in the last half hour so I'm not too attached to anything yet. If you have any issues with something in my character let me know.)

---------------------

I was thinking that the goblins you're attacking could have me captured. Their leader was the one who turned me into a falcon and when you start fighting him, you notice me caged by him and set me free during the battle? Let me know what you think.

Cyrus paced. He was mulling over the problem, wandering what to do, when Seraph asked him what he thought. "We don't even know for sure if they've been captured." He spoke softly, in atightly controlled voice. "They could be dead for all we know, so right now, this is all pointless conjecture. Above all, we need information; on the status of Finn and Henry and the numbers of the goblins."

The bear burped, uninterested, but Seraph looked thoughtful. "So," Cyrus continued, "we have to comlete the scouting that they failed."

"That's preposterous!" Seraph said, obviously frustrated. "Why should we succeed where two skilled scouts have failed?!"

"Well, that's because they wont be expecting more of us, now will they?" He replied. "And whether you like it or not, I'm goin." Cyrus said walking past the pale Paladin and uncaring bear.

Behind him, the crunching of Seraph's boots followed. When he came up beside Cyrus, face closed and grim, nothing was said. The moonlight showed them clearly where to go, and they being experienced warriors, had some experience scouting. It was hard going though, and when eventually they found the bend in the path, to look upward at the cave entrance; they were panting harshly.

Not too far ahead of it, stood a big old tent amid a crudely drawn camp. An empty camp; above and beyond it however, firelight flickered. Fluttering above the tent were a host of flag poles, of which only one was adorned. A skull, painted in a faded red colour hung there, grinning obscenely. Cyrus hissed in alarm when he saw it.

Seraph started. "What is it?"

"The Blood Skulls; perhaps the fiercest, most malevolent Goblin tribe of all." Cyrus growled. "Known cannibals, they are, right fussy about who they eat too. But we're in luck."

Seraph had gone ashen at the mention of cannibals. "Your insane! How is this in any way lucky?"

Cyrus smiled, but it didnt reach his eyes. "They're the only ones here," he said, indicating the empty poles. "Which means, if I can beat SkullCrusher, then they're would be no opposition from other tribal leaders and we would be in control."

Inching forward, he noticed the morrass of tracks, a great many odd footprints surrounded then overlapped two human sets of prints. That was all he could make out. "You understand what happened from this?"Cyrus asked, beard swaying in the breeze.

Seraph analysed the tracks. Then began to move forward, following the story. "As far as I can make out, they were captured and led away from here. Neither was hurt; there's no blood." He added, seeing Cyrus' quizzical glance. "There is however, black gore splattered on the rocks. It seems they weren't taken without a struggle."

At that moment, the breeze shifted, blowing toward them. Cyrus stiffened, face contorting into a mask of rage and hatred. "Goblin stench," he hissed. His blood was boiling; it was an instinctual reaction to the presence of age-old enemies, previously known but not felt. Images flashed in his head.

Of dwarven babies, children and women; sprawled, eyes staring, blood pooling. Great cavaties in their chest where their hearts had been cut out and for the children ... open skulls; baby brains were a delicacy to the Goblins.

It was their vicious assault on the peaceful moutain dwelling dwarves, that had forced them underground. The need for revenge was what drove the dwarves to become the fierce fighters they were today. Eyes showing mostly whites, Cyrus was all but pawing the ground in rage.

"You need to go Seraph," he said in a soft, deadly tone. "Tell the others what we have discovered and bring them here. Bring Daisy; Im'a need my hammer for this here slaughter."

Then, he stepped out into clear view of any sentries posted. He unslung Bright Star from his back and shook it up at the sky. "Naer en tuukar mor esae la ten'adre!" He screamed in dwarven; a deep bellow that shattered the night air. In response, Bright Star waxed even brighter. Lit by moonlight as he was, he cut a heroic figure, only slightly ruined by grunting and snorting.

At first, there was no response. Then there was an explosion of noise; high pitched shrieks and screams and the Goblins came pouring out of the cavern to face their ancient foe; a few leading the rest. Seraph who had been slithering quietly away, quickened his pace although he longed to stay and fight.

Cyrus charged up the hillside to meet them. He could have just spoken the challenge in their tongue, but he wanted to spill some blood. He wasn't being rational, his reasoning had long since been swept aside. He swept his axe low, cutting the legs from beneath the first goblin. It fell, screaming, blood pumping out to spray over the dwarf. He decapitated the next, screaming incoherently.

A big brute of Goblin, bearing an axe, with a chain of tiny skulls around his neck reared up suddenly in front of him; swinging mightily. Cyrus swerved under and away to the side. He swung his axe upward, but it was deflected. He was facing no amateur and he had to end this before he was overwhelmed by the oncoming mass. Blocking a blow, he flicked his wrist and locked his oppenents blade with his own.

Staring into the strainging, snarling monstrosity of a face, Cyrus regained some much needed equilibrium (mentally).

"Gaar nana enhr muskraf!" He spat.
I challenge your leader.

The brute's eyes widened in surprise. He stopped straining, and lent back, disengaing. Turning his head, he barked a few words. The rushing multitude slowed, then milled about in confusion. The beast stared at him with narrowed eyes. "Come." It said, in heavily accented human tongue. Face grim, the blood spattered dwarf followed him upto the cave.