GURPS Banestorm redux narrative thread

Hayu

Hayu shrugs. “I don’t know. Is it really fate? If it is, then he’s depressed about nothing,” she points over at Thwip, “because that guard was always going to die, and nothing could change it. Maybe I am choosing to stay here, because there’s safety in numbers, and I don’t want to walk back to a place where I’m liable to lose my head, because it would be a really stupid choice. There doesn’t have to be a grand plan. Things could be just random, like throwing dice. You can’t know the difference, unless you find a way to make all the choices and somehow see all the outcomes. We only make one and see one. So it might seem like Fate, but isn’t really. Or it is and Fate is a real bâtard about things.”

She glances over towards Thwip. In her experience, goblins tend to be on the clever side. Maybe if he has something to chew on, other than what just happened, he’ll stop thinking about it. “Things happen. We can either use them to make less stupid choices or come up with better solutions, or we don’t. And sometimes it’s not obvious which is which.”

She knows she’s not telling them much about herself, but she doesn’t know if she can even trust these guys. That’s why she still carries her own pack instead of putting it on the horse. And keeps the knife handy: just because these guys saved her doesn’t mean one or more of them won’t get ideas. It pays to stay cautious when you’re a woman in this world.

Thwip

Thwip hisses. It’s uncustomarily animalistic for him. Something only the goblin warriors of old are said to do during battle.

“Tings happen? Let me tell yi about tose tings. Tey happedt tis morningk so I haff a goodt memory off tem.”

There is iron in his voice. “Me an Ranar were hiredt by a secretive and imperious elf lord t’ crawl through an abandonedt Wazifi vault t’ fetch sum treashure. We hadt some good men with us tat I hadt grown t’ consider my friends. I don’t know ifin tey tot off me t’ same way but tey risked their lifes t’ safe me from certin death thrice over. Ten t’ elf lord’s enemies sent in skilledt assassins who killed tem all. Tat same elf lord died safing mi life. Tere corpses are still cooling in tat vault because we lackt t’ time t’ properly bury tem because we hadt t’ escape b’fore more enemies came.”

He strides towards Hayu. He stops just out of knife range. He’s angry, not stupid. He stares at her with an intensity he never had before the previous twenty four hours. “Ten I hadt t’ murder a stranger on top off tat.”

He continues “I am going t’ find a libarry. I am going t’ findt a wizard tat kin explain what mi research finds. I am going t’ find the person or persons who killed my friends and I’m going t put a stop t tem. Ifin yi want to repay me fir killing a man who did mi no wrong just so yi could avoid the stockade, ten help me t’ do tis.”

He looks away and nods at Sasha and Eoin, “Yi too. And ifin ‘fate’ brought us all togeter just fir the pleasant walk in t’ sun, ten so be it.”

Ranar

Ranar speaks to no one in particular, looking off to the side. “Got to Tredroy, not much money or supplies. Looked for a job to get some gold to make travelin’ easier. Thought I was signin’ up for simple caravan guard duty or such,” a nod to Eoin. “but as Thwip says, it was a bit more than that.” He looks down and pauses to catch his breath. “Messy… Awful.”

His left hand holds the horse’s reigns while the right hand is furiously rubbing a small stone carving.

“I know little about Fate, but here she put me. And east she wants me to go, I know not why, but that’s the way we’re goin’. So that seems right.”

Hayu

Hayu stares right back. “I never asked you to fight on my behalf. Those choices are yours. You claim to not want to kill, but that catapult-thing of yours…” she nods pointedly towards Thwip’s gun, “seems as though it has one function only. You either chose to make that, purchase that, or accept it as a gift. Your sins are your own to bear and atone for, not mine. You made your decisions – I do not bear fault for them.” Tabernac, she thinks. Why must some people assume that guards always have the right of it and can never be corrupted? And why do they have to blame someone less fortunate when something goes wrong. What kind of a fool takes a security job, and is shocked when there’s an actual need to defend the thing he’s securing? “However, if you feel that I prove too much of a temptation that causes you to throw aside your morals so easily, then please do say so and I will take my leave.”

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Thwip

The goblin turns a deeper shade of green. Seething, he steps back and gestures to the horizon.

“I’m not stoppin yi.”

Sasha

“So that’s the heart of it then. The Heathen has a weirding and a geas and we are tied to it, I and Ranar and Thief, aye and possibly you too Soldier. We will walk his path and we will fight his fights and at the end they will sing of us.”

“And do not be sad for that guard, Heathen, it was his fate to bring us together. Without him Thief would not be here and I would still be trying to explain the casting of stones to you. If this is not enough for your dead god then consider why they chased her so far from town? This far from town? Horse against foot? They were after sport of one kind or after sport of another kind. You have saved a foot for your god. Is this not what you are supposed to do?”

Thwip

Thwip stares slack-jawed at Sasha for a moment. He is struck by both the absurdity of what the dwarf said and how much sense it makes.

Is this your plan, dear God? Maybe it’s just nonsense from a mad dwarf. Maybe not. But I see your point and recognize that I am getting Goblin on these people and blaming them for things beyond their power. –

Putting in an effort to speak as slowly and as clearly as possible so all may understand him, “Meibe yu are rite. I apologise t’ yu all. It has been a very traumatik day and I am lashink out in mai pain.”

He turns back to Hayu and bows his head, “I was rude. I beg yor forgiveness.”

Ranar

Ranar listens to the others, feels compelled to take a few awkward quick steps to catch up to the group and speak, but fights it back. Instead he just thinks silently to himself.

– Twas I who fired first. Twas not decisions, no one made them, there was not time for decisions, only time to act. –

A brief moment of remorse.

– But Sasha speaks well, we cannot know what would be had we not acted. Only that we are here, which is better than being no longer here. Am I just justifying my actions to sate my conscience? Does it matter? The world moves on, as it is, no matter what it might be. –

Eoin

Eoin gears up a musing on how fate, chance or choice are all functionally the same to the person they’re happening to. He’s always enjoyed arguing such matters, ever since he was a boy, and maybe a good bullshit session would get the group a little way out of their shells. It does.When Thwip hisses and explodes like fat thrown on a campfire

After Hayu responds to Thwip’s apology, Eoin chimes in.

“I’m sorry you and Ranar have gone through that, it’s never easy to lose friends. Look, I owe you for showing me the way out of the wilds. I’ve been all over in my time, so I know a few people. Tell me what kinda library you’re looking for and I’ll find you it, and the right-kinda wizard. But, after that we’re square, I ain’t getting mixed up with international conspiracies and elven assassins. I like my hide with the standard number of holes in it.”

He waits for whatever reaction comes of that, and takes stock of the group again. Sasha was as inscrutable as ever, the thief remained guarded, and Thwip had reined in his temper but the turmoil just below the surface remained. Best not to prod him, he needs a friend not a stranger pushing their nose in. That brings his attention back to Ranar, who’s humming has ceased, and he seems to be sinking deeper into himself.

He slows, and falls back to walk beside Ranar. He speaks low, so the rest of the group can’t hear.

“I know what you’re pondering, and that no-one can say anything about it you ain’t saying to yourself. Been there, collected the scars on body and mind to prove it,” he says

“So, trust me when I say it sounds like you and Thwip been through hell together, and that’ll eat you up if you let it.”

“You’re a quiet one, he’s a thinker, and you both need a friend to get yourselves out of your heads. The rest of us are strangers, we can’t help much with that. So for now, it’s up to you two to pull each other through the aftermath like you pulled each other through the fight. In my experience talking and listening to someone you trust, who knows, makes it… manageable.”

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Hayu

Hayu shrugs. “I can’t give you absolution. And anyway, I’m not the person you need to be asking it of. What I can tell you is that sometimes our choices are kill or be killed, and you might want to sort out what your answer to that one is going to be, real quick, because if you spend too much time thinking it over, a lot of other people – some you might even care about – could die first.” She’s not a soldier, but soldiers tell stories, especially those ones drinking to forget. That hesitation, that doubt, can get so many more people hurt. Sometimes getting brutal, doing the unthinkable is the only way to save people. That one she knows personally.

It’s not just that, however. She knows from hard experience not to trust someone with Thwip’s finger-pointing attitude when in a tight spot. He’s precisely the kind of whiner that turns into a rat, when the heat gets on. Until he demonstrates that he’s an exception to that rule, she won’t rely on him at her shoulder.

A soldier that can’t fight. In the taverns, they have names for that: Raven-banquet, bottom-corpse. He might as well be working for the other side. The whiny ones like Thwip sometimes get help getting that way.

Get hard or go home, she thinks. Those are the only options in this world. He just better figure it out fast.

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Thwip

“Tank yi. Tat’s all I kin hope fir”

Thwip studies her for a few seconds. Dislike barely suppressed. He gestures to the horizon once more and then continues his walk in silence.

– Great. I’m stuck with a pinkie stereotype. I’ll have to count my fingers after she leaves. I don’t trust the other pinkie as far as I can toss him as his arrival was far too convenient, but I hope he makes good with his promises. At least the dwarf is amusing. –

Thwip is unaware of the momentous change in his attitude as he casually forgot to refer to the dwarf by the Goblin slur of “thumb”. Despite being mentored by the dwarven archmage Eyegouger he was never taught to not do that. Though painfully learning the lesson as an adult on his first day in Megalos.

Eyegouger was a dwarf who enjoyed mental sparring far more than most and the use of slurs was part of his arsenal. He was always happy when a new one was used on him. “Hah! I’ll remember that one!” he’d say. Most everyone in the village dismissed it as another strange thing foreigners do and took little offense at it. No one ever discovered that Eyegouger arrived at their village due to being exiled from his Circle for “being a rude fucking asshole”.

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GM POST

@DaakSyde @William_George @MalevolentPixy @strokeybeard @Macro

Upon reaching the river, you turn east towards the trading post. A steady stream of riverboat traffic passes in both directions.

As you approach the trading post, it appears much as it did before; a large inn, an open-air market and some docks.

Ranar

Ranar moves aside to give room as Eoin falls back alongside him. As the man speaks, he begins to stroke his beard, looks up and nods with unexpected respect. The man looked a bit like a soldier, but spoke wisdom instead of the expected small-talk banter or boasting typical of guards. That was a bit unexpected. “Aye, ye got that right. Thank ye for that, friend.” A small smile was the best he could do. Perhaps to help the goblin would help to help himself.

Straightening up and picking up the pace a bit, he soon caught up with Thwip, who still seemed a bit upset. He took a few deep breaths, encouraging himself, both wanting and not wanting to talk about the past. Just as he cleared his throat to start to speak, he looked up to see the trading post up ahead. Relieved, he dropped that line of thought and improvised another.

Speaking quietly, “I think ye should take lead up here. Plenty of people there and… the new crew needs a leader to follow, an’ to bring ‘em together. You can do that, an’ you’re right for this.”

“I’d advise tho to keep it quick and go straight to the dock. Still doesn’t feel safe here.”

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Eoin

Eoin gives Ranar a nod and returns his smile as the dwarf collects himself and moves up to the others. He follows just a step or two behind.

He waits a moment or two as they quietly speak.

“Just a moment before we head in there, if you would,” he says raising a hand. “You two have got elven assassins on yer tail, she’s got a bunch of pissed off guardsmen, and we make a… distinctive group.” He looks meaningfully between the injured gobiln and beardless dwarf with their unique weapons, the ragged thief and the armoury of expensive weaponry tied to the horse.
“We might want to make it a little less easy for them to figure out where we’re headed, maybe take a moment to make ourselves less memorable.” he takes a moment to size up the group.
The girl would make the easiest start, hair short enough to be mistaken for a young boy at a glance. That and different set of clothes…
"Fer instance, the guards. Who’ve likely sent word or a rider or two here already if they’re still on the hunt, are looking for a two dwarves, one beardless, an injured goblin and a beggar-girl… not say a merchant man’s son and his bodyguard, who enter town not long after a dwarf and an uninjured goblin trader who run into another dwarf by the docks"
Caught up in thought, he checks on a couple of details of his hatching plan before anyone can weigh in. He turns to Hayu…
“Now, have you got anything else to wear?” Then looking over at Sasha, "and can you sneak any? "

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Thwip

Thwip nods. “Splittink up seems like a goodt idea t’ me. Ifin I recall correctly tese ships might haff some berts fir us t’s sleep in. Tho tere’ no sayingk how minny off us kin go togeter. Meebee two separate parties tat meet doon river?”

Thwip then waves at the horse before addressing Sasha and Eoin, making it obvious he’s not including Hayu in this, “T’ stable master wouldt recogknize me and Ranar and wouldt want t’ know about his missingk hosses. I tink one off yi shouldt leaf tis mount tere instead off us.”

A recent memory pops up;

Thwip tries to think of something else to say. Something leaderly. He searches his memory for examples from the books he read as a child.

– How would Sea Captain Pikard of the HHS Outer Prize handle this? And should I start asking for ‘Honey mead. Hot.’ at the inns? –

Then something strikes him. Yes. Being too memorable might be a problem beyond being a motley crew. Asking Ranar, “I don’t no much aboot dungeon loot. Meebee yi walkink in wit a bag full off swords might make yi more noticeable tan we need?”

He glances at Hayu.

– I don’t know if this is going to be a good suggestion. She’ll probably run off with it and pawn it for a few drinks. But maybe that’d be a good thing. –

“Meebee we kin split t’ weapons and armor between us?”

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Ranar

“Hmm… Could be, an’ if ye think that’s the way, I’ll back ye on it. 'Twould make things a bit easier.”

“But multiple groups of travelers passin’ through about the same time, who each happen to have extra weaponry, of similar origin, might be more suspicious than, say… a merchant or courier delivering some custom-made weapons downriver while some unrelated groups o’ people happen to be around.”

He shrugs. “But you’re right that we might need some explanation. With Eoin’s idea that you’re a trader and Hayu’s a merchant’s son, could cover either way. They look less conspicuous. Maybe better for them to have ‘em. But for a goblin trader with a dwarf companion to have a batch o’ weapons might be what people’d expect. Either way could work. Which do you want to try?”

Thwip

Thwip nods as he listens to the reasoning offered. So far he can see the validity in Eoin and Ranar’s ideas.

– Maybe we would all be here right now if we had spent more time thinking about our actions in that damnable vault. –

As competently as he can sound he asks the remainder of the party, “Inny otter suggestions?”

He’s pretty sure this is how Pikard did it in the books.

Hayu

“That’s all well and good, unless they’re on the lookout for the weapons. Then it won’t matter what you’re dressed as or how few of them you have on you. Or that ring, if they’re tracking it with some sort of spell… Has anyone checked that out?” She doubts it. Basic precautions don’t seem to be Ranar or Thwip’s strong suits. Anybody with half a brain knows that the first thing to do with distinctive hot goods is to make them less distinctive.

“You.” She points at Eoin. “You look like the most normal of us. If you could get some charcoal and some brick clay, you could make these look a little less unique.” Not to mention less tempting to every footpad and two-bit throat slitter with no ability to resist temptation. For someone who claims to abhor violent situations, these guys do an awfully good job of inviting them. “Canvas to wrap them in might help, too… Or a crate if you can lay your hands on one.” Tabernac. These guys left a couple of pieces behind at the battle site, and it’s all of a set. How they’re not dead yet, she hasn’t a clue. “You really don’t want to be flashing these around, as is. Trust me on that. And you definitely want to be well away, before you even think of unloading them.”

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Eoin

For the first time since Eoin appeared at the campsite there’s a crack in his affable veneer. He shoots Hayu a look of exasperation that all but screams ‘do you think I’m bloody thick?’

Credit where credit is due. They were good points to raise, once you mop up the condescension dripping from them, he thinks.

“First, good catch on the ring. Except, there’s fuck all we can do about that right now. So, unless you forgot to mention being a mage who can magic up some sort of ward, or containment box, let’s concentrate on what we can do.”

He pulls the blanket and bedroll from the top of his pack and set’s it aside, and rummages through his pack. He pulls out a wooden box as he continues to speak.

“Right. I was thinking of sorting us out first, but since you bring up the weapons…”

“There’s five of us, and most of us set out intending to travel so that’s at least four blankets. And I have rope, that should be enough to wrap the weapons up so they’re not easily identified. Or at least its worth a shot before jumping to wandering back and forth between here and the trading post - The less of that the better.”

He flicks a couple of latches and opens the box. The lid scissors up to revel a couple of small shelves, filled with brushes, pottles of make-up and paints of various fleshy hues, and a couple of other odds and ends.

“Let’s see if that works, then l’ll either fetch some clay and charcoal or see what I do with making us less us…”

Thwip

Thwip’s neck is getting sore from nodding sagely as he listens to all of the options.

“Disguizes fir us all. Andt dirtying up some off t’ weapons and armar. Ten wrappingk t’ rest fir a goblin courier wit his two dwarfen bodyguardts. Meanwhile an otter trader and his boy-childt arrifes from t’ otter side off town to find rest fir tere hoss tat was injured by centar raiders and fir a way t’ ship tere remaining merchandise. Yes. Tis might all work.”

Straightening up in as commanding a pose as possible, he gestures with a pointing hand at the uncaring trading post. “Make it happen.”

– Wait, I don’t think that was how he said it in the Sea Trek books. I’ll have to look that up when we get to the library. –

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