GURPS Banestorm redux narrative thread

Ranar Bolijyr

With things quieted down, Ranar tends to setting up their companions’ bodies in dignified postures as well as he can. Blue Hawk with his drum and spear, Jibril and de Courcy with their weapons at rest, Aronn resting peacefully.

That unpleasant act done, he heads to the armory pile. He’s not going to leave all this loot to centaurs and assassins. After a brief longing look at the mace and morningstar, he leaves them, instead gathering up the easier-to-carry swords. Along with one of the elven assassin swords, he ties the hilts together and wraps the bundle in a bit of cloth and slings it from his backpack.

Back in the entryway, he sorts the coins and jewelry into two piles (just by chance of the order that he draws the coins, gold tends to go into his own pile while Thwip’s pile gets an equivalent value counted out in other metals).

“I’ve got these weapons, they’ll be worth something and we’ll split that when we get it. Th-Think you can carry that box and those potions?” he asks Thwip. “I don’t know much about that sort of thing, but they could be pretty valuable. I’m going to take a look topside.”

After a quick peek out the entrance looks all clear, he returns to Thwip. “Let’s get outta here. T-t-try to find a local that can guide us to the nearest river crossing and into Cardiel. Then I think best to head downstream. Don’t seem a good idea to show ourselves in Tredroy quite yet after the incidents there. Downriver though, there’ll be a port. We can sell off some of this stuff, maybe find out what’s in that box and what we’ve gotten ourselves into.” He shudders. “What think ye?”

Aronn had said, ‘the Master must not find it’. Having seen the boss’s power, Ranar silently cringed at the thought of what Aronn would call ‘the Master’.

Thwip

The goblin is unusually taciturn as Ranar lays their companions out.

– I never trusted Aronn. Yet when it came down to it he saved my life.–

He mutters “Yeh” as he takes the items offered. Once he has the opportunity to find his pack among the remains of the camp he packs it.

“I plan t’ find who haired tem elfs an make tem pay fir t’ killing t’ otters.”

Without another word Thwip picks up his burden and nods at Ranar to take the lead. They have a long walk home.

GM POST

@DaakSyde @William_George @MalevolentPixy @strokeybeard @enceladus

Emerging blinking into the bright Wazifi sunshine, Thwip and Ranar set off to the east, back towards the road. They make an unusual sight; the slender goblin has his right arm bound, while the burly dwarf drags a hefty bundle of weaponry behind him, lashed to the shaft of a duelling halberd.

Although they are somber at first, Thwip’s natural cheerfulness soon reassert itself. Chattering happily, he fails to note the small copse of trees up ahead until Ranar raises a hand to silence him.

“There’s someone up ahead in the trees”.

[player cue: what are Thwip and Ranar doing?]

Thwip

– If I lose another friend to a fight that shouldn’t have happened…–

Thwip places his pack on the ground as gingerly as he can with a broken arm. He then nods to Ranar and begins walking towards the trees. He approaches in a noisy manner with his arms as wide as he can make them. He then speaks in Arabic.

“A-hem. Hullo. Mein neim is Thwip. Az you kin see I aim unarmdt. Though I zink zat you shouldt iknore mein heafily armdt friend und focus on me. Ve haff had und terrible day fightingk vit irrational elves and vould be verty happy if you vill be villing to sit down vit us und enjoy a meal. Ve haff little food but ve vill gladly share it vit you.”

Thwip waits for a reply, ready to repeat it again in Anglish.

He fervently hopes that, should the mystery person or persons be part of the elven strike force, they are greatly worried that the goblin and dwarf are the only ones walking away from the encounter.

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Sasha

Sasha watches the approaching figures from his seat in the copse. He pokes at a small fire heating a leather bag of stew as the green thing struggles out of its pack and moves towards him, arms wide, jabbering in some unintelligible surface language. He looks down at the stones lying in the dirt and shrugs. A dwarf and a goblin, and from the right direction too. Well, what Fate decrees is decreed by Fate, he would have to get them to agree to it one way or another.

Standing up he calls out in dwarvish

< Ho Brother Traveller, I have food here and I have drink here, you are welcome to eat this food and you are welcome to drink this drink. Bring your pet and sit for we have things to discuss and time is short. >

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Ranar Bolijyr

“Ah hhrr um.” Ranar freezes for a moment. He’d been expecting more trouble, or possibly a local farmer. A fellow dwarf though, was the last thing that he expected. “H-ho Brother … Traveller! A good meal would be quite welcome at the…now.” he calls out.

He picks up his bundle and gets Thwip’s pack, handing it over to Thwip as he walks up. More quietly, and with some obvious relief, “'Tis another dwarf! And we’ve lucked out and arrived just at mealtime!”

As they approach the trees, the smell of the stew awakens his hunger. The sight of another dwarf out here on the surface, so far from Zarak is oddly both comforting and awkward. He clears his throat to make introductions “Gd-ple-erm ahem. Auspicious to meet you! I am Ranar Bolijyr and my traveling companion is none other than Thwip the Magnificent!”

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Sasha

Sasha steps out into view and eyes up the motley pair. He’s probably the first clean shaven dwarf you’ve seen.

"For help of heathen I Anglish speak.

I be Sasha DeStijl, Brother Protector of the Dark Places That Dwarves Must Go. Come, sit, I have food, you eat here. I have drink, you drink here. This is how it must be."

He gestures for you to both sit down and prepares some tea. The tea is made from the last of his supplies of dwarven moss, and a delicacy not often seen on the surface. He felt the need to make a good impression given he was meeting a dwarf, even one as bare-headed as this one.

He looks nervous as he offers the tea in small wooden cups.

[Edited to make it clear he doesn’t have a beard]

Thwip

–Another Thumb! A shaven Thumb at that. Add a bit of green and fix the teeth and they might almost be attractively Goblinesque.–

Thwip is somewhat relieved. The machinations of elves has given him a deep hurt this day and humans tend to be elfish at times. He appreciates the sturdiness of the Dwarven people. This might be due to the influence of Archmage Eyegouger upon his life when he was young. He is momentarily taken back to those days as he hears the impenetrable Dwarven language spoken.

“Yeh little green shits may call us ‘Thumbs’ but yeh try to swing a pick wit’oot having a thumb. Nothing gits done is what I’m telling yeh. No, yeh canna build a machine to do yeh digging! Don’t talk such nonsense! The Church wouldn’t allow it anyway. Now stop fiddling with that orb b’fore yeh brains get melted.”

Thwip smiles and partakes in the hospitality offered.

Ranar Bolijyr

As he enters the shade of the copse of trees, Ranar is surprised by the sight of a beardless dwarf. An exile? A deviant? A lunatic? With the aid of his shyness, he fights back the impulse to question the stranger and plays off his reaction as adjusting to the sudden change from bright sunlight to shade.

He happily sits by the fire to relax and enjoy the hospitality. As Sasha hands him a cup of tea he pauses for a moment to inhale the scent of home. Then a thought hits him - “Oh ha - what goes good with moss tea?” He rummages in his pack for a moment and then passes around what used to be a few crumbly mushroom shortbread cookies. He’s been saving them for awhile so they’re just broken bits of cookie now, but still taste like home.

“So ah, what direction are ye headed in yer travels?”

“I am here and you are here and the Heathen is here. We are here together, this is how it must be.”

Sasha looks into your bemused faces. He sighs and decides to try again.

“It is Fate. Look, this…” he gestures at a pebble on the ground, “this me. It is here, I am here, so it is. This…” he points to two other small stones nearby, “this you two. They are there, you are there, so it was.”

“That…”, he says, pointing at a stone further away in the other direction, “that is someone else.” He draws a line in the dirt from that one to the rest of them.

“They are there but will be here.”

He looks up, still unsure if you’ve grasped it yet. He draws a circle in the dirt around the stone representing himself.

“This was.”

Another circle is drawn around the three of you.

“This is.”

Then a final circle encompassing all of them.

“This will be. As it is written in these stones, it is fated. Nothing more can be done. We must travel awhile together until the stones release us.”

As he looks up to see whether you understand now you notice that his final circle includes a fifth stone, off to the side.

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Thwip

To his credit Thwip manages to not roll his eyes and sigh.

– Sweet virgin mother Mary who ascended to Heaven with her incorrupt body and sinless soul, the strange things people believe.–

Forcing a smile Thwip responds, “Tat’s good t’ here. Does tis circle haff Tredroy in it? Plenty off stones tere.”

Ranar

Listening to their host’s speech was relaxing and a bit comforting. With his stutter, Ranar had always felt a bit out of place in conversation, trying to push the thoughts from his mind out of his mouth while everyone else waited. Although Sasha spoke clearly, the simple, repetitive staccato pattern must have made him feel similarly.

When Sasha says that “they will be here”, he takes a quick glance back in the direction of the ruined fort, then pays closer attention until Sasha finishes. “Th-th … S-so ah, joining the circle, not trying to break it?” He nods and glances at Thwip. “Aye, more stones make a stronger foundation.”

“But here is not, may not, be where best to be.” He breaks a dried twig into many pieces and scatters them off to one side of the circles, but not far away, pointing at them. “They were, and may still be. And they are not stones. Tis a land o’ bandits.”

He leans back on the soft moss for a moment watching the sunlight on the leaves shift in the breeze. “Yet I could use a rest. And here’s better than the open fields. Is it written in the stones whether t’ camp or press on?”

Sasha

Sasha isn’t sure that you’ve properly understood, with Ranar’s twigs and Thwip’s talk of places, but at least you seem to have grasped the basics.

Addressing Thwip he says “Places they are not, people they are. See how they lie…people, not places!” as if this should be obvious to you.

He picks up the stones and drops them one by one into a tooled leather pouch.

“I am here and you are here and you are here and he…he is coming.” He holds up the pouch. “Then we will be together and Fate will hold us. I do not know what will happen but we will live our Fate until Fate lets us go.”

He selects three other stones and adds them to the others before putting the pouch away.

“Now we have met and now we have drunk and now we have foretold and now we will eat.”

Thwip

As the meal begins, Thwip’s far-hearing ears hear the distinctive beat of hooves. He quickly looks at his companions in a panic. They haven’t seem to have noticed.

– Ah! Of course they wouldn’t! Dwarves would have ears for hearing underground and the earth moves sound much further than the air. There’s a book in finding out how this sort of physical selection by environment happens. Not now. –

He quickly grabs Ranar by the arm. “I hear hooves. Mebee centers. Otter side off t’ trees.” He gestures at Sasha, “Company! Mebee bad. Keep yir head doon and git riddy t’ fight ifin they’re centers!”

– The fire to make the tea? They would have spotted it already. No time to douse it.–

Thwip readies his rifle the best he can and takes up a concealed position.

– I wonder if I can redesign this for one handed use? –

He peers out across the scrub land and hopes that Ranar won’t have to bury a broken goblin and a mad dwarf.

Ranar

Ranar’s adrenaline kicks him into action, although he can’t help himself from grumbling about having barely gotten a bite in. “Welcome to the circle, Sasha.”

Taking up a position within the edge of the grove, about 5 meters away from Thwip, he props his shield up against a tree and shelters behind the tree and shield, readying his crossbow and scanning the area to the north.

GM POST

@DaakSyde @William_George @MalevolentPixy @strokeybeard @enceladus

A scruffy-looking human is running towards you, pursued by three mounted men. It looks like they’ll catch their prey just before reaching the trees.

The person on foot is about a hundred yards away, the horsemen about fifty yards behind.

Right on time, Sasha thought, and followed by something sharp - the stones do not lie.

Arming his prodd he moves through the grove to get a clear view of the incoming person. Noting the riders he thinks back to a deep mine shaft, the slow, insistent creak of the props, the sudden terrifying crack as the ceiling gives way…

He holds that feeling on the tip of his mind as he waits for the riders, and more importantly their horses, to come into range of his spell…

GM POST

@DaakSyde @William_George @MalevolentPixy @strokeybeard @enceladus

Peering through the brush over the top of his shield, Ranar looses a crossbow bolt with a loud twang. The central horsemen notes the sound of the shot in time to look towards the woods, but not in time to avoid it. The bolt punches through his mail shirt, burying itself deeply in his chest.

Although the rider is obviously grievously wounded, he retains his seat. Bending low over his horse’s neck, he urges his mount forwards and reaches back for the shield slung on its haunches. Meanwhile, the other two riders spread slightly to the flanks as they also ready their shields.

As they pass sixty yards, Thwip lets fly. Although his aim is severely hampered by his broken arm, the shot is miraculously on target. The bullet blasts through the horseman’s armour, visibly sending blood spraying through the links on his back. Somehow, he still retains his seat.

But not for long; after another twenty yards, he slumps from the saddle and crashes to the ground. His horse continues onwards regardless.

Switching his focus to the leftmost target, Ranar snaps off a second shot. Without the benefit of careful aiming, this bolt flies far wide. Cursing, Ranar drops the bow and snatches for his axe.

Meanwhile, Thwip gets off a second shot at the right-hand horseman. Once more, he focuses through his pain to keep the rifle on target. However, his injury takes its toll on his aim; the shot finds the horse instead.

The horse bucks and rears as the bullet strikes home, but the rider controls it and continues to charge.

Green is shrubbery/canopy, brown is tree trunk

[Player cue: the human has reached the edge of the woods, but the two remaining horsemen are only a second behind. Ranar, you have your axe and shield ready; Sasha, they’re currently about 15 yards away, but closing at 10yds/second; Thwip, you’re reloaded; Hayu, time to step in]

Hayu

Crisse. These guys are determined. Whatever they want her for, it’s more than just a couple of minor baubles lifted in the marketplace. Not that she stopped to ask – when maniacs start charging at you with swords, it’s hardly the time for polite conversation. Usually, though, guards will stop at the city limits, whereas these bâtards sent horsemen to continue the chase. Three of them, from the sounds of it, though she doesn’t dare lose the time it will take to look back. She needs to get to the trees. The horses won’t be able to run in there, and the guards’ fancy armour will work to their disadvantage.

A small voice in her head notes that she could get a smidge extra speed if she abandons her pack but she squelches it by arguing that she’d lose speed getting out of it, and it’s everything she owns.

Her lungs are burning and her heart feels like it’s going to burst when she hears a grunt and one of the guards shouting that it’s an ambush, which is news to her. Then one of the horses screams and the sound is enough to give her a little burst of speed that she hadn’t thought possible. While Father Louis might argue many reasons why “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” might be false, right now, Hayu is willing to give thanks to whatever God, god or gods has provided her with this gift and sort out the intentions of these third parties, after they and hims fight. All she needs is to reach cover and catch her breath for a minute… maybe an hour or so. Just a little bit further…

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Thwip

When the rider falls and the horse screams its pain, time slows for Thwip.

– Why did I kill that pinkie? Because my remaining friend is in danger. But he created the danger. The rider did nothing to me. –

He slowly moves his sights to the wounded horse. Or perhaps he moves them quickly. He cannot tell.

– Why am I going to kill this horse? It’s in pain. Is that really why? I caused its pain to begin with. –

He finds himself yelling. He does not know how loud it is though it’s booming to his ears.

“Flee, befare yi die!”

– We are killing strangers for no reason. We know nothing of this situation. We don’t know anything of that pinkie we’re murdering for. We know nothing of the thumb behind us. Why are will killing as a first resort? That poor horse. Did the centaurs or the elves kill our old horses? Why are we doing this? Why am I doing this? I pride myself on my intelligence yet I have rarely used it this past week. My friends have died because of it.–

Thwip fires at the injured horse.

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