A new encounter

[Suihaden]

At the elf's haughty manner Sui's quick temper flared, he was about to reply with an angry retort when he remembered the words of the Bible. "God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble." Shamed by his pridefull response Sui grasped the knife in his teeth and placed the point at the knot that bound his hands. Bending his head forward he pressed the blade against the hemp. He winced as the sharp knife cut into his hand then sliced through the rope. Rubbing his hands together he restored circulation to them and then proceeded to cut Taos’s and Nichtmar’s bonds

[Anvil]

Greybeard's shouts are noticed and causes a small riot near him as some men drop down and start praying for protection and others stare wide eyed at the man they all knew was dead but a few hours ago. Anvil rides up to see what the commotion is all about and stares for a few seconds at the trussed up red faced fighter and finally starts to laugh as he dismounts and starts to cut loose his friend.

"Old man you are gonna have to teach me that trick someday" Anvil jokes " But seriously I'm glad your still alive"

After getting Greybeard freed from his funeral procession Anvil quickly relates what has happened since the battle. Greybeard can see that there are several travois filled with wounded and equipment secured from the battle. Anvil also lets him know that the group his headed for the nearest settlement in Aethenu, and two more are out still. One group tracks the Jovians and another is scouring the area to map out trails and ambush sites for future use. Greybeard is also informed that Nichtmar, Suihaden and Taos and possibly more are prisoners of the Jovians.

[greybeardabbot]

"Ney, ney! good people... twas not death but a swoon. I was sore injured. But the rest has revived me. I heal most quickly, a rear gift of my God. "

It was, of course, not the entire truth. It smote Greybeard's concience when he would have to lie in this way. 'Not every truth has to be spoken.' were wise words he learned from a good man. 'Sometimes we are presented with choices that require us to error by doing a lessor evil.' Although neither of these ideas are quoted from the sacred scriptures.
He always wondered if his embracing of such things were the root cause of his never waking to the glory of heaven, but rather once again-- to walk THIS world.
His rising from the dead was still a puzzel to him, himself. He was a good man in general, devout and faithful, but still very often a bit of a sinner. "That is why I am the GREY-Palladin." he reminded himself. "Or at most, off-white."
The truth be told, he had been dead. Why lie about it? Why hide it? Why not tell the world? Because the world will not understand it. And what they will not understand they are affraid of. It is simpler to say He was mearly in a swoon... But it bothered him to hide behind a heresy so similar to the SWOON theory, where it was claimed that Jesus Christ only appeared to have died. Pattently NOT the truth... "One day"... Greybeard, struggeled internally... "I will need to invent a better excuse."

Since this mirracle recovery was well excepted... Greybeard returned the issues at hand...

GB: Exactly what support do you expect from Aethenu, Lord Anvil? Why would we head to those lands? What plans have you?

[Anvil]

"I Expect nothing from anyone Greybeard, we were just returning your remains for your people to entomb." Anvil laughs " you can thank King Brogas for not ending up on the funeral pyre" After that I'm taking my men and hooking back up with my King for we have plans to make and Jovians to kill."

[greybeardabbot]

Then I shall go with you. Do we head west to Dunland? We shall pass within a league of the hospice of the two crosses. Allow me a diversion there... it will be worth it to you for food and drink at least... besides there I have squirrled away one or two items that my prove useful to you... besides, I have weapons and armor to refit myself. besides the inn keeper owes me a horse... not that this beast which has dragged me now won't serve for the time being... but it would be too generous not to say an imposition... but my own horse would be best, not so? Besides there is a tin of gold coins... by which we can outfit your expedition... And I intend to send for a couple of friends of mine... old friends... very old friends indeed. One is named Jonas and the other is Eustace. I've been expecting a visit from Eustace for some time now. He is... overdue... and so I think he may be near enough to answer a sumons from me with some haste... if he is able to answer at all... We are kindred spirits he and I.
Is this agreeable to you... or must we make haste in a different direction?

[Anvil]

"I think we have time enough to make for the hospice, we can drop off the wounded there and gather enough food stuffs to keep us from having to slow down and gather wild foods on our trip. But we are not headed to Dunland. Sir Brogas leads the remaining men from your campaign against the vikings and our troops we had brought to help. They are only around 150 strong but they are shadowing the Jovians and looking for a way to free our captives. "
Anvil finishes getting the last of the beir off the horse as another man approaches with a saddle from the confiscated remains of the battle.
"We plan on several running guerrilla attacks against these invaders, and hopefully we can keep them haggard enough to give our forces an edge when the final battles come. Several of our people of Dunland have fought the Romans of our old world and know how to frustrate legions of strict discipline, heavily armored men who like to fight in formations on open ground."
Anvil pauses for a moment in his movements and gets a far away look in his eyes
"My friend from what I saw on the battlefield these men are like those Romans and I fear an open field battle against them, they out number us and are more heavily armored and trained."
With a few quick orders Anvil sends men scurrying to redirect the forward scouts and get the column moving again.
"Let us make for this hospice and share a few draughts together before returning to our business at hand"

[Sir Nichtmar]

Nichtmar stands up putting a hand on Sui to help himself up.

"Thank you, Sir."

Looks to Taos.

"Where is this place, Elf sir?"

"ahhh, my head."

Nichtmar starts getting angry.

"Ow, WHERE AM I!?!"

He slams his fists on the wall.

[Taos]

Taos gives Nichtmar a strange look.

"We are prisoners here. I suggest you cease beating your fists against the wall and giving our captors reason to look in on us. I would like to be fresh and have all of our meagre resources available when we make our escape, and the inevitable beating when they discover we have slipped our bonds will interfere with that plan."

Taos rubbed his chafed wrists to alleviate the pain in the raw skin, then resumed speaking.

"In the meantime, we wait for our allies to attempt to free us. It is unlikely we will be killed, we will be too valuable as sources of information and bargaining chips."

He gave Suihaden a disdainful glance.

"How do you hold up to torture, child?"

[greybeardabbot]

Location: The Two Crosses Hostil;Theround table near the hearth.
Greybeard and Anvil eat bread and cheese, while drinking a pint of honey Ale.

Greybeard: Infiltration... We must deisguise ourselves in Jovian garb, then we may enter thier camp and free our friends, if we can find them.

Anvil: Twill mean a few raids maybe. Somehow we must outfit alot of us. I think we may need "captains" gear too.

Greybeard: Yes... an officer of some sort. Not too high in rank, nor too low. We need the freedom to walk unmolested among them. And not too bloody either... Where and how shall we make our first sortee, that we might draw off a few and not have to fight thier whole bloody assembly?

[Anvil]

Anvil mulls over Greybeard's question while nursing his mug. He finally reaches into his pack on the floor next to him and withdraws a map and unrolls it on the table using the mug and plate of cheese to hold it open.
"My friend I must profess I know little of the lands hereabouts, do your people know of any outpost or regular patrol routes of the Jovians? I think it best to gather our needed items from an area away from where our friends are held to let the enemy feel more secure and possibly relax a little."

[shatar]

The door to the make shift holding cell is ripped open and a red gauntlet rams the face of Nictmar. The blood sprays out between his teeth as his body crumbles to the ground. Two large Jovian guards stand at each side of the entrance as Shatar steps in, his black cape follows him, then wraps around to the right as he stops. He eyes Suihaden and has a look of doubt, then Nichtmar sprawled on the floor, then Taos.

“Him.”

Shatar turns and heads to his tent. It’s the largest there, dawning red and black. A Jovian flag, large and slapping against the wind towers the top of the center pole. The guards escort Taos into the tent. There’s a table of fruit, bread, dried meat, and wine. On the opposite side is a bed of pillows were a lady clothed lightly in silk sits and nibbles on fruit. Shatar’s swords sits sheathed at the foot of the bed.

Shatar whispers to the lady and heads to the table and looks to Taos, “Sit. I wish to talk. What is your name? Who are you?”

[Taos]

Taos takes a seat in the offered chair, and eyes Shatar with a regal gaze.

“I am Taos of the Levanon, son of Saesen of the Levanon, I am Dragoon and Once-King of the Jade Islands, I have crossed the Great Seas of the West and East, I have lived 60 days in the high desert of Kathay with neither food nor sleep, I am a scion by direct blood lineage of Adubrin Demonbane, and I am your foeman, warrior. We waste our time at this table.”

[Anvil]

*Somewhere near the Jovian camp*

Thistle watches the Jovian patrol ride off past her position in a small grove off trees, she turns to look at her adopted daughter and a wave of panic sweeps over her. "Amalys ?" she whispers with a little bit of panic in her voice. Suddenly the face of her daughter appears from the folds of a cloak not more than 5 feet from her. "What ?" Amayls whispers back somewhat annoyed at her moms panic. Thistle calms immediatly still amazed at how her young one can disappear right in front of her, a gift of her elven parents. Thistle takes a moment as a wave of guilt hits her, for she knows that had her daughters real parents still lived they would still consider their daughter but a small child and not the young women warrior the humans consider her. But such is the way for orphans wether they be human or elven.
"I think we are close to the camp, that is the 5th patrol we have seen in the last hour and a half. These Jovians are a paranoid people to have so many watch post and patrols or they know they are being pursued." Thistle says thoughtfully "We need to be more careful from here on, that last patrol nearly caught the group of us in the open"
Thistle was in charge of a group of 8 rangers tracking the Jovians and mapping the area around the camp. She didn't want to engage the warriors for any reason mostly to help ensure the secrecy of the mission but also to keep her friends and daughter safe. She doubted the small mountain ponies could outrun the larger horses the Jovians used, she knew the stamina was better in her mounts but if you can't outrun your foe stamina won't mean much.
"We need to finish up here and be gone, King Brogas needs what we have found out to plan our next move. I want to locate the camp and be gone from here in the next 12 hours" Thistle says and then looks at two of the men with her. "We'll leave you two in a secure spot where you can monitor the camp and make sure there aren't any nasty surprises waiting on us when we return."
With that said Thistle looks to ensure the Jovians are gone and sends out a single rider to scout ahead and a rider to watch the back trail. A few minutes later the rest of the rangers leave the safety of the copse of trees and a rider splits off to each side to watch the flanks of the little group. Thistle prays that they can finish this business and be off without notice. For a moment she wonders what her husband Anvil is doing.

[Anvil]

Location: The Two Crosses Hostil;Theround table near the hearth.
Greybeard and Anvil eat bread and cheese, while drinking a pint of honey Ale.

"If there is no outpost or regular patrols near your borders I suggest we drop down and locate some Jovians closer to their city." Anvils muses out loud "We might be able to find a suitable patrol with a couple of officers on a foraging patrol, for I know they haven't started any farming in any real sense yet from our spies watching from our side of the border."

[Suihaden]

At Taos's remark the tingle that went up Sui's backbone at the mention of torture was overwhelmed by the wave of resentment at the elf's arrogance.

"17 years may be a short while to you sir, but I have learned in a hard school. In the desert we Christians have learned to disappoint the moslem in the horrors of torture."

Sui was about to continue when the slammed open. The red clad Jovian smashed Nichtmar, ignored Sui and dragged off Taos. After he left, Sui pieced Nichtmar's teeth back into his mouth ramming each one sharply.

"They will heal in we keep them in their sockets." He explained.

Sui looked around, he was angry, very angry, disdained and slighted he felt like he wanted to hit something.

"Why can't I be better than I am, must I be always trodden under foot like a worthless animal?"

[shatar]

*Jovian Camp, Shatar’s Tent*

Composed as usual, Shatar sips from his wine and considers his response.

“An enemy? I see us more as reluctant acquaintances. I can tell you understand order and structure. You could be integral to converting your friends to the way of the Jovian’s. You could save thousands of lives with a simple conversation.”

He pauses for a moment and takes bite of an apple.

Still chewing, “You see…” swallows his bite, “We can take Mittelmarch with minimal losses, but your side, well it won’t be pleasant. You could talk to them convince them to listen to reason. We offer our protection, in return for their loyalty and servitude to the Emperor. For many nothing well even change, they will continue their normal tasks. We’ll teach them of our faith in Jupiter.”

[greybeardabbot]

A tall thin man enters the hospice. He is lean and hard. His face hands and for-arms are deeply tanned. His nose is large and bent. His beard is thick and wide under his chin and as red as oaker and set dramatically against his golden chainmail coif. His tunic is simple, but made of soften leather, dark brown and very finely detailed. He wore short boots in the Arab style, and britches that where subtlety embroidered with silk. His sword was sheathed in a golden metal case, and was curved somewhat like the sabers of the East.
His manor was clam and confident. His expression was inscrutable but not hostile. A smile hinted upon his face as he spies Greybeard at table. He speaks what is clearly the greeting of a longtime friend, with his arms held wide.
“Laben??? Est ha’aeteem. Nor, list alhemar lechama ma’elik alehanu?”

Greybeard standing replies in a tone that conveys friendly chastisement and they embrace.
“Estis! Na, tar menameen. Memnar Ha’el seela shema!

Turning to the table, Greybeard introduces Eustace to the assembled.

[Taos]

*Jovian Camp, Shatar's Tent*

Taos betrayed no emotion, patiently listening to Shatar's speech, before responding.

"It is rare indeed for conquerers to come with not just swords and war machines, but a fine turn of phrase as well. Unfortunately, I have lived far longer than you, human, and I know that betrayers and fiends come with honeyed words, only to plant in a knife in the soft underbelly of the unsuspecting. The people of this land will never bend the knee, nor cease to resist any attempt to force them into bondage. There can be no peace, nor hope of peace if you continue on the road of conquest. Withdraw your troops from our lands, then we will consider any such offers you may make."

Taos raised a eyebrow, almost mockingly.

"If the caliber of soldier I spent my day killing is an indication of your whole army's capabilities, I think your loss calculations will turn out to be somewhat...optimistically low."

[Haldour]

Somewhere in the wilds, Haldor sat on a large barrel, deep in thought. After a few moments one of his scouts hurriedly runs up and whispers in his ear. Haldor shakes his head and turns to his Jarls.

"It seems that many of our men have fallen while we were away. Our fears as to why they had not met up with us have been realized."

The men look to one another with mixed expressions of fear, anger, and disbelief. At last one jumps to his feet.

"We must avenge our brothers' blood! By Odin's beard and Thor's hammer, let us strike them now!"

"Calm down Nafien." Haldor motions for the Jarl to be seated again. "Truly our brothers now feast with the All-father himself in Valhalla. Brave and strong were the lot of them." He pauses thoughtfully. "However, you're right. Vengeance must be taken."

The scout clears his throat and all turn to look at him.
"Clanmaster, there is some news that you might find interesting. Several of those responsible for our brothers' deaths are being held captive by another army. All in red were they clad, with a banner bearing a strange wheel flown above them. The one that we held captive for a time, the...creature...is among them."

Haldor lifts is head, deep in thought. Eventually a small grin crosses his lips.

"I see. Well, I see for ourselves an opportunity to not only avenge the slain, but to acquire wealth like we have not yet encountered. If this red army is any kind of threat the them, we should be able to make our moves with little notice. Prepare yourselves for battle men. You, my best warriors, will show them what the wrath of the Norsemen is like. We leave at the sun's peak"

[Anvil]

Location: The Two Crosses Hostil;Theround table near the hearth.

Anvil nibbles at some cheese and nurses his drink while Greybeard and his friend take a few moments to catch up. Anvil studies the map and tries to force the perfect place to waylay a Jovian patrol to appear in front of him. Time is against them in this operation and their forces are spread thin. It has been a few weeks since they left Dunland and Anvil wonders how things are faring back home. He knows that if he and the others are gone to long Banith and his group will attack in earnest to overtake the settlements once they realize that a good portion of the army is gone.

[greybeardabbot]

GB: Tace! not since we did battle against each other have we fought on the same battlefield. Now we fight side by side rather than face to face.

Eustace: So long as we fight a just war, brother. I am convinced this is so. Sir Anvil, we are at your service.

GB: Alzo... Good King of the Scottish clans... we have terried here as long as need be.It istime to be oncemore upon the move, eh? Our close friends need us let us intercept this red army and take some of their clothing, and slip unnoticed into thier encampment.

[Anvil]

Anvil breaks into a large smile behind his tattooed face and replies "Alas my poor friends, you have hitched your wagon to a simple blacksmith and not a knight or other important fellow. And not only that I fear it is a poor blacksmith at that since I have spent to many summers away from the forge to repeal back the invaders of my far off homeland. The Geats, Danes, Saxons, Norsemen, and even the damnable men of Gaul all kept me busy and we cannot forget the ever present threat of the Romans and their constant talk of empire building."
Anvil is done packing his gear back into his pack and is exiting the door as he finishes talking. He motions a pair of his men over, both with obvious mixed heritage to include some elf, and quickly talks to them over the map in his hand.
As he gathers his horse he looks at Greybeard and friends and says "A poor blacksmith gentlemen, but you would be hard to find a more loyal companion and fierce defender to have at your side." As he rises into the saddle of his horse.

"Shall we follow my hounds and begin the hunt?"

[shatar]

“I’m not sure of the enemies that you are used to, but a Jovian is judged by his honor. A Jovian will not lie or disguise his intentions. Our motives are simple, we take a land, and we mold it to better fit the Empire. Its people can benefit from this change or they can die. It matters not if you join or if you kill me now, it will not stop the Jovian way. We are many and we are strong. You consider us hostile…I consider your Lands primitive and aching for evolution. Someone like you could lower the death count. You could convince your people. We could enter negotiations instead of needless death.”

Shatar takes another sip and looks to Taos.

“I hear your King and most of its leaders have gone missing in Mittelmarch…”

[Suihaden]

(OOC) I just noticed this but three RP threads look like they are starting to converge on each other time and area wise(New Encounter, Storm Rising, Getting to know them). Is this a mistake? Or intentional?

[Anvil]

location: 2 days hard ride south of the Hostel in wilderness

The companions have ridden hard and the rangers have located a group of 20 Jovians with wagons making a foraging run. The little band that set out from the hostel has picked a few more warriors on their way here who are outraged at the news of the Jovian attack, and now number 30 strong.

The Jovians are heading for a opening in the hills and woods that will lead them to a dirt path back towards their city. Anvil and Greybeard have divided their warriors and set themselves up on both sides of the path ahead of the Jovians.

Anvil is kneeling near the bodies of two dead Jovian scouts and whispers to his sergents. "Remember keep your men quit and hidden until they are nearly upon us. Your arrows will be our main attack and I hope it will kill or disable the majority of the band. Myself and 4 others will be mounted and ready just up the road out of site to intercept any who make a run for it." With a wave of his hand the 2 sergents retreat deeper into the woods, Anvil does a quick glance down the path and then sprints back to the horses pausing long enough to glance at the other woodline to see if Greybeard's men are ready.