Arpad
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
"Of course I pray, horse man. What your name is? Nobody know it but for the little chief Bleitthad. What you call him, Blaise? Like my people will call him. But I do not pray in masjeeed. Come wit me to the house our Lady." He turns and slightly bows to a large, low, non-descript building across the plaza. It has a peaked roof that runs generally parallel the plaza and the ancient wall beyond the roofline. At the right (eastward) end the building has a rounded part with high windows; at the near side is a square part with high windows; and a long rectangular section runs west from the square protrusion. At the western end of the long section is a wide door a steps up from the plaza. It is open and a few people are entering as you watch, crossing the plaza in pairs and threes or fours among the much broader stream of people hurrying toward the much more impressive mosque at the east end of the plaza.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
The Gaul gracefully inclines his head sideways. "Good then," he says. "My name Ogier. After angelus I will meet you at the stables." He turns and proceeds directly to the building that you guess to be a "Christian" temple. Your tribe was not concerned with the beliefs of those they plundered, and in your westward travels you have noted only that such temples seem to hold much portable wealth.
... time passes ...
After the zuhr / angelus; the Plaza; still a nice warm summer day; 13th of Truces, 268 H
You lead your horses walking along the narrow street into the west end of the plaza, past the steps to the Tower La Zuda, turning toward the mosque at the far end. The Bridge Gate opens from the end of the plaza next to the mosque, onto the old Roman bridge that crosses the Ebro river.
"We go out half a day," says Ogier, rubbing the nose of his fat brown gelding, "then we need to stay out a night. I remember dirt village ten mile north, and other fifteen. Easy ride to other one, get by near sunset there. Yeah?"
Overnight is not a financial issue. Blaise gave you a small bag of six or eight silver dirhams, enough to thank a prosperous villager for lodging and feeding two men and two horses.
Ogier continues, "Haroun be drooling mad - nah, not true, is road of saying such in my home speech. Does maybe not come over well to this. Haroun is angry, yeah? With him Arpad. You. He think you make a - try to fool of him. But that make you a fool instead? Eh. He did not say to tell you this. He also do not say, do anything with this. He think about it, yeah?" His tongue seems tangled with a lot of thoughts. His eyes are uneasy as he looks across his horse's back at you. "Anyway, I tell him we go look at fields, he shake his head and laugh."
... time passes ...
After the zuhr / angelus; the Plaza; still a nice warm summer day; 13th of Truces, 268 H
You lead your horses walking along the narrow street into the west end of the plaza, past the steps to the Tower La Zuda, turning toward the mosque at the far end. The Bridge Gate opens from the end of the plaza next to the mosque, onto the old Roman bridge that crosses the Ebro river.
"We go out half a day," says Ogier, rubbing the nose of his fat brown gelding, "then we need to stay out a night. I remember dirt village ten mile north, and other fifteen. Easy ride to other one, get by near sunset there. Yeah?"
Overnight is not a financial issue. Blaise gave you a small bag of six or eight silver dirhams, enough to thank a prosperous villager for lodging and feeding two men and two horses.
Ogier continues, "Haroun be drooling mad - nah, not true, is road of saying such in my home speech. Does maybe not come over well to this. Haroun is angry, yeah? With him Arpad. You. He think you make a - try to fool of him. But that make you a fool instead? Eh. He did not say to tell you this. He also do not say, do anything with this. He think about it, yeah?" His tongue seems tangled with a lot of thoughts. His eyes are uneasy as he looks across his horse's back at you. "Anyway, I tell him we go look at fields, he shake his head and laugh."
Re: Arpad
"Why do we need to stay out a night? Must we go further, or is there something else?" Arpad mounts his horse. "Let us be off - I have spent too much time on my feet and in a chair." Arpad leads his horse carefully through the people, looking for the first open area outside of town where he might gallop briefly.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
early afternoon; the Bridge Gate -> north road
As you take the tight left turn at the east end of the plaza, and walk from the bright sun through the shadows of the tunnel that leads ten yards through the ancient stone wall to the outer gate, Ogier counts on his fingers: "Half day out, yeah? Seven uhr, makes near sunset. Half day back? I don' ride at night. Things hunt at night, friend. You forget? Too long in walls? Maybe they don' like you smell ... After sun-down, we stay in walls, okay?"
As you pass out from under the broad arch of the gateway, onto the bridge, Ogier swings up into the saddle. His light chain shirt jingles. His longsword and bow and throwing spear are in scabbards beside his stirrups; a mace swings at his hip; a helmet is at the cantle of his saddle, and he effortlessly swings his right leg high clear over it as he mounts. He is equipped and trained to kill, not just to gaze on fields.
"I think Blaise want me keep you safe. Eh? Good thing, Haroun not disagree." The burly blond Gaul - six inches shorter than you - grins like a friendly stray dog. Or maybe a wolf, the kind that cause stallions to circle the herd.
It is a quarter mile across the river, the old stone bridge solid as earth beneath you, the water glimmering in sunshine far upstream, turgid with sewage soon downstream. Mid-day is an odd time to be leaving the town. You ride past a fitful stream of straggling inbound traffic: carts with two wheels, wagons with four, all pulled by oxen and loaded with early green produce, peppers and beans; folk walking in, dirty and tired, looking for work or for goods made by skilled craft. The sun is bright on your head and on the dusty road. To left and right the grain fields are green turning toward yellow. They look fine.
What sort of things would catch Arpad's eye, as he rides?
As you take the tight left turn at the east end of the plaza, and walk from the bright sun through the shadows of the tunnel that leads ten yards through the ancient stone wall to the outer gate, Ogier counts on his fingers: "Half day out, yeah? Seven uhr, makes near sunset. Half day back? I don' ride at night. Things hunt at night, friend. You forget? Too long in walls? Maybe they don' like you smell ... After sun-down, we stay in walls, okay?"
As you pass out from under the broad arch of the gateway, onto the bridge, Ogier swings up into the saddle. His light chain shirt jingles. His longsword and bow and throwing spear are in scabbards beside his stirrups; a mace swings at his hip; a helmet is at the cantle of his saddle, and he effortlessly swings his right leg high clear over it as he mounts. He is equipped and trained to kill, not just to gaze on fields.
"I think Blaise want me keep you safe. Eh? Good thing, Haroun not disagree." The burly blond Gaul - six inches shorter than you - grins like a friendly stray dog. Or maybe a wolf, the kind that cause stallions to circle the herd.
It is a quarter mile across the river, the old stone bridge solid as earth beneath you, the water glimmering in sunshine far upstream, turgid with sewage soon downstream. Mid-day is an odd time to be leaving the town. You ride past a fitful stream of straggling inbound traffic: carts with two wheels, wagons with four, all pulled by oxen and loaded with early green produce, peppers and beans; folk walking in, dirty and tired, looking for work or for goods made by skilled craft. The sun is bright on your head and on the dusty road. To left and right the grain fields are green turning toward yellow. They look fine.
What sort of things would catch Arpad's eye, as he rides?
Re: Arpad
<Internal> Ahh - it feels good to be out of the city. If only there were no road beneath me, and no people around.... <Int.> After feeling some of the stresses of urban living and court politics lift away, Arpad slows his horse a little to look more carefully at his surroundings. From his early days, he was trained to look for defensive areas and undefended areas, places whence once could launch an attack and areas that could be cut off easily from neighboring support. <Internal> Here, all seems to crowded - it would take quite the army to sack this region. But still - ignoring all the rest - that would be a promising target - a well-filled barn as noted by the healthy livestock. Oh and a good looking well and watering trough. Those buildings there should not have been built so close together - if one were to catch fire, somehow, the others would follow quickly, especially with the nice breeze. And they are not for the winter - that is one way to winnow out the crowds. This would not be the time to raid, though - in another month, perhaps, the barns will be bursting with fresh-harvested grain. Let the farmers do the work, and let us reap the rewards. My horse feels in fine fettle today, but I can tell it has been too long cooped up as well. <Int.> <Mag.> How are you today my fine friend? Are they feeding you well? Your muscles feel strong, but we need to run some more later on. I am glad too that we are out in the air. <Mag.> <Internal> Ahh - I guess there are too many people here for wild game paths. Perhaps when I get out farther from the city I will - oh but there is a hawk, or an eagle? What is it hunting? Oh - perhaps I should wait for Ogier. He will be slower. <Int.> Arpad slows down to a walk, and looks behind him for the Gaul.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
early afternoon (soon after zuhr); the Frank Road north from Saraqusta; sunny and breezy hot, dusty; 13th of Truces, 268 H
Ogier and Arpad
Ogier is about a half mile back, riding at an ambling pace, hands off the reins. He is handling a knife and a chunk of what you know to be spiced smoked meat, peeling a thin continuous strip that he chews and swallows as he peels. However, his attention is alert to the surroundings, and almost as soon as you look back, he tucks the meat under the elbow of his knife arm to wave broadly and cheerfully with his free hand.
You continue riding uneventfully as your shadows lengthen northeastward. Ogier eventually comes up alongside your horse. After about two hours, the faint sound of the first call to asr prayer comes echoing up the road from the minaret in Saraqusta. Looking southward you see that you've been gradually ascending the gentle north side of the Ebro Valley. Behind you the river writhes across the valley bottom in its eastward flow, running briefly straight alongside the ridge on which Zaragoza is built. Beyond the river the south face of the valley more steeply rises to craggy hills.
As you've been riding you have passed dozens of peasants weeding the grain fields, bare-shouldered, rag-headed, brown-roasted and sweating under the sun. Shortly ahead to the right side of the road, you see a group of a half dozen not working, gathered together around one who lies sprawled and bloody at the side of the road. A trampled path of grain stalks shows from where he was dragged, a couple hundred yards off road. All around that area the grain is trampled down in a yards-broad circle, as if there was a struggle by some massive beast. Beyond that rough circle, faint trail of bent stalks runs away from the road toward a wooded hill, maybe two or three miles distant.
"Saints and devils," says Ogier, "you think he's dead?"
Ogier and Arpad
Ogier is about a half mile back, riding at an ambling pace, hands off the reins. He is handling a knife and a chunk of what you know to be spiced smoked meat, peeling a thin continuous strip that he chews and swallows as he peels. However, his attention is alert to the surroundings, and almost as soon as you look back, he tucks the meat under the elbow of his knife arm to wave broadly and cheerfully with his free hand.
You continue riding uneventfully as your shadows lengthen northeastward. Ogier eventually comes up alongside your horse. After about two hours, the faint sound of the first call to asr prayer comes echoing up the road from the minaret in Saraqusta. Looking southward you see that you've been gradually ascending the gentle north side of the Ebro Valley. Behind you the river writhes across the valley bottom in its eastward flow, running briefly straight alongside the ridge on which Zaragoza is built. Beyond the river the south face of the valley more steeply rises to craggy hills.
As you've been riding you have passed dozens of peasants weeding the grain fields, bare-shouldered, rag-headed, brown-roasted and sweating under the sun. Shortly ahead to the right side of the road, you see a group of a half dozen not working, gathered together around one who lies sprawled and bloody at the side of the road. A trampled path of grain stalks shows from where he was dragged, a couple hundred yards off road. All around that area the grain is trampled down in a yards-broad circle, as if there was a struggle by some massive beast. Beyond that rough circle, faint trail of bent stalks runs away from the road toward a wooded hill, maybe two or three miles distant.
"Saints and devils," says Ogier, "you think he's dead?"
Re: Arpad
Mumbled to Ogier, "Well this looks like something more interesting than testing the grain." And aloud, "You there, what has happened? Is there some wild beast loose in the fields?" Is there some sort of perception/nature/survival roll to make as Arpad scans the scene for evidence of what might have occurred, and then correlates what he sees with whatever he hears from the locals? He is quite curious, and if the locals seem shy or secretive, will also attempt (and I can certainly role play, if you like) to Persuade them to give him the story.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
From the peasantry you learn that the downed lad is thick in the head and loves animals. He had been warned off from playing with the wild piglets that scamper through the grain fields, but seems he chased one right to its mother, who trampled and gored him. The peasants have been wanting all summer to drive off the wild pigs, as the adults ravage crops. But none of these laborers has the kidney or the equipment to handle a wild sow, worse yet a wild boar. Actually, persuasion helping you out here, one of the peasants DOES have a boar spear, it was his great-uncle's, he doesn't know how to hold it ... and there's some mocking laughter about him not being able to handle a spear yet siring three sons.
Ogier glances at you with an amused smile. "You and I, we like what we eat," he says. "How time since you have a roast pig?"
What do you do?
Ogier glances at you with an amused smile. "You and I, we like what we eat," he says. "How time since you have a roast pig?"
What do you do?
Re: Arpad
Sotto voce "It does seem that the princes would like us to make sure the crops come in strong, and relieving the land of these beasts should help. And, as you say, perhaps there is some good eating at the end of this. If not, at least a good adventure. We must go on foot, though, so our mounts are not injured in the game." Aloud: "In the name of the princes and the king, you will watch our animals while we remove this wild boar. Who will lead us to its lair?" Arpad hops down off the horse and hands the reigns to somebody. He pulls from the horse his crossbow and a half-dozen bolts. He carries his quarter staff as well. As soon as he is off the horse, and before grabbing his weapons, he causes a subtle glow (Prestidigitation - harmless sensory effect) to briefly appear around himself and Ogier. It should be just on the edge of consciousness for the onlookers.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
It doesn't seem like you'd need a guide - the swath of downed grain stalks, leading from the trampled circle toward the wooded hill two miles away, makes a clear path about a yard across. "I ... could go get my great uncle's spear," volunteers the father of three. "I can be back soon. Could we use your horse to get the lad to the village?"
Re: Arpad
Condition - slightly haughty HP: 8; AC: 13; Active Spells: Mage Armor
"My horse will not take this man. It is too high-spirited for carrying a wounded lad. Perhaps yours Ogier?...I thought not - there must be a suitable donkey cart around here that you use to haul grain, something that would not cause further injury." And with that, Arpad heads off along the track towards the hill, glad that his mage armor tends to last from one sun-up until it sets.
"My horse will not take this man. It is too high-spirited for carrying a wounded lad. Perhaps yours Ogier?...I thought not - there must be a suitable donkey cart around here that you use to haul grain, something that would not cause further injury." And with that, Arpad heads off along the track towards the hill, glad that his mage armor tends to last from one sun-up until it sets.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
Two of the peasants set off quietly, carrying their lad by knees and shoulders. He is slowly breathing, and not much bleeding. Nor is there any big puddle of blood or soaked earth where he was lying. He might be going to recover.
It is a warm afternoon and after the first mile both men are sweating - Ogier a bit more, given his armor and so on. Another fifteen minutes brings you to the edge of the grain fields. Along the way based on that 13 survival roll you've picked up that there are several small tracks of bent-but-not-crushed-down grain stalks, intertwined with the big broad trail of totally-bent-down stalks. Seems like one big momma hog and several hoglets.
From the field edge the hillside slopes upward, maybe a foot in every ten yards. About forty yards of the hillside is covered with tough wiry green burr-grass and shrubby bushes.
Above those are scrub maples and oak trees, spaced apart. No evidence of the pigs.
What do you do?
It is a warm afternoon and after the first mile both men are sweating - Ogier a bit more, given his armor and so on. Another fifteen minutes brings you to the edge of the grain fields. Along the way based on that 13 survival roll you've picked up that there are several small tracks of bent-but-not-crushed-down grain stalks, intertwined with the big broad trail of totally-bent-down stalks. Seems like one big momma hog and several hoglets.
From the field edge the hillside slopes upward, maybe a foot in every ten yards. About forty yards of the hillside is covered with tough wiry green burr-grass and shrubby bushes.
Above those are scrub maples and oak trees, spaced apart. No evidence of the pigs.What do you do?
Re: Arpad
Condition - bemused HP: 8; AC: 13; Active Spells: Mage Armor
Finding an oak tree nearby, Arpad swings up into, and climbs as high as he can get in order to search the area for the pigs, or signs of where they might have gone.
Athletics 17+2 = 19
Perception 5-1 = 4 (Passive Perception is 9)
"Ogier - do you see anything?"
Finding an oak tree nearby, Arpad swings up into, and climbs as high as he can get in order to search the area for the pigs, or signs of where they might have gone.
Athletics 17+2 = 19
Perception 5-1 = 4 (Passive Perception is 9)
"Ogier - do you see anything?"
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
"Only your horse," the burly Gaul shouts, laughing. The beast indeed is ambling up from edge of the grain fields, munching a mouthful of green hay. Evidently he was a hard job for the laborers to handle ...
You hear a quiet grunting in response to Ogier's shout. It comes from the shade under a bluff at the east side of the hillock. A greater tree than your own spreads its roots across the top of the bluff - a poplar, maybe.
What do you do?
You hear a quiet grunting in response to Ogier's shout. It comes from the shade under a bluff at the east side of the hillock. A greater tree than your own spreads its roots across the top of the bluff - a poplar, maybe.
What do you do?
Re: Arpad
Condition - treed HP: 8; AC: 13; Active Spells: Mage Armor
After whistling to my horse and asking Ogier to grab the reins and stand with my tree between him and the grunting noise, I will cast a Minor Illusion of the sound of a pack of dogs which will build over the course of the minute that the spell lasts, or until I see something rush from the shade of the nearby bluff. Since the spell doesn't require concentration once cast, I will ready my light crossbow in the following round, preparing to shoot from the tree at whatever fowl beast might come along.
After whistling to my horse and asking Ogier to grab the reins and stand with my tree between him and the grunting noise, I will cast a Minor Illusion of the sound of a pack of dogs which will build over the course of the minute that the spell lasts, or until I see something rush from the shade of the nearby bluff. Since the spell doesn't require concentration once cast, I will ready my light crossbow in the following round, preparing to shoot from the tree at whatever fowl beast might come along.