[Completed] - Rhodri/East - 4 May, 1 VC

[Keehnelf]

Go ahead and make a CON check.

[KingOfCowards]

CON Check (16): [1d20] = 2

[Keehnelf]

Kennit makes a break for the hilltop to the south, thanking the gods above and below that the ground is more uneven and broken there than further north. He hears the pounding of the Wolves' paws on the earth behind growing louder and closer, either drowning out any words from the riders or they have chosen to charge after him in silence. For a long moment as the slope ahead sharpens and his pace flags, he is sure that he'll be overtaken, but a sharp yip from behind informs him that the slope is giving the laden wolves even more difficulty, and he throws himself past the first tumbled stones before the riders can reach him. He spins around and falls against one of the larger rocks, panting hard, lungs and stomach burning and bile rising in his mouth, as the riders pull up and wheel around the field of rocks until they are arrayed in a semicircle around him, with the peak of the knoll to his back.

The middle rider (all three are hobgoblins in scale mail with lances and unadorned shields, heavy packs slung across the haunches of their mounts) gestures at Kennit and then taps his own shoulder with a gloved hand, speaking to the others in his coarse and clipped tongue. The others respond with curt grunts and nods. Then the middle rider eases forward in his seat and addresses Kennit in common, suddenly smiling. "Ho there! What be your name, little spy?"

[KingOfCowards]

Panting and out of breath, Kennit smiles weakly when he sees that he's not to be killed immediately.

But he answers the hobgoblins between deep, exhausted breaths, "My name is Kennit Buckthorn. I may be little, but I'm no spy. I was looking for a friend of mine, an elf that your outriders captured some few days past."

It occurs to him that it would have been a good idea for Vaul to actually send out some reconnaissance, they likely have no idea what they are in for.

[Keehnelf]

The hobgoblin's grin widens. "Well, isn't that lucky! He happens to be back in the column keeping Commander Viscarg company. Come with us and we'll reunite you two."

[KingOfCowards]

Kennit nods, relieved to know that Rhodri is still alive.

"Sounds like a splendid plan. I'll have to borrow one of your rides, though. I seem to have lost my wolf."
He keeps his hand on his sword in preparation for the beating that is sure to follow.

[Keehnelf]

The hobgoblin chuckles. "You're a funny one! I like you! Go ahead and lead the way and we'll follow behind, as slow as you need. The column's not moving too quick--we'll catch up even if you're tired." The rider sidles his wolf to one side to create a wide enough opening for Kennit to pass without having to bring him within sword's reach of either wolf.

[KingOfCowards]

With a surprised smirk, Kennit gives an appreciating nod.
"Ul'right. How 'bout of you lads lead the way to your Captain, and the other two can follow along behind me so that you know I won't sneak off?"
Kennit shoulders his shield, but keeps his goblin curved sword in hand.

[Keehnelf]

The leader nods, smiling in return, and leads his wolf away in the direction of the moving army. The other two wait for Kennit to follow.

[KingOfCowards]

"Let's go, then. Can't keep Commander Viscarg waiting."
Kennit follows the lead hobgoblin, occasionally looking back at the two wolf-riders following him to make sure he knows where they are.

[Keehnelf]

May 9, 1 VC - 11:00am

It takes some time to catch up with the advancing column of Viscarg's troops, since the quartet is moving at Kennit's pace and, after his sprint toward the hill, he is well and truly exhausted.

Thankfully, the commander's retinue is bringing up the rear of the troop, and several of the riders turn to look at the approaching patrol without slowing their pace. All of Viscarg's escort wear mismatched armor, all the pieces of high quality if somewhat poorly maintained, with odd and eccentric trophies or adornments hanging from it.

The nearest rider, a massive furry thing perhaps seven and a half feet tall, with a flat and pug-nosed face and a wide, thin mouth full of needle teeth, edges his shaggy draft horse mount around to face toward Kennit and smiles, a thin pointed tongue sticking out of its mouth involuntarily. One cat-like ear stands high on one side of its head--the other is torn off at the base. The thing wears a base of splint mail with one plate pauldron on its left shoulder and a long-handled greatsword slung across its back. A necklace of long teeth hangs around the thing's neck and clatters slightly as it moves.

The rest of Viscarg's escort is similarly motley and ferocious. Two hulking and battle-scarred orcs in matching dented iron plate ride dire wolves side by side, long spears in hand and wicked scimitars hanging by their sides. A white-furred gnoll in pale white leather armor and a pot helmet rides a tall horse, a short bow across the saddle and a broadsword ready to hand. A white-skinned goblin with horrible scars over its face and arms rides a normal wolf, but it wears shining chainmail under a black tabard with a white X marking its chest. A heavy oaken shield and a bundle of javelins wobble back and forth across the back of the wolf as it rides.

Finally, Kennit gets a good look at the commander. Viscarg is a hobgoblin, slight of build and somewhat short of stature, but no less striking as he rides atop his ant lion mount in blue-steel banded armor and his tall, horned and crested helm. A face plate hangs to one side of the helm, at present exposing the horrible face of the army's leader. His skin is a dark olive hue, his lower teeth jutting up over his upper lip in a broken line, and his nose is a mass of scar tissue from when it was carelessly removed in battle some time ago. His small eyes are heavily shadowed by a strong brow, across which one long, razor-straight line of shaggy hair runs from temple to temple. His forehead bulges oddly, as though his brain were attempting to escape its ugly prison, under the line of the scarlet and blue steel helmet.

The hairy, flat-faced creature turns toward Viscarg's and grumbles in a low and rolling chaotic dialect, "This one looks delicious. I call the legs." The hobgoblin simply stares back evenly without speaking.

The hobgoblin raises a hand, then, and the white-skinned goblin riding beside him calls out: "Column...halt!" The whole assembly slowly shambles to a stop as the word is passed up the line.

The white-skinned goblin rides up to stand between Kennit and Viscarg, fixing him with a haughty glare. "Speak!" He commands, and the hobgoblin escort's leader says, "Commander Viscarg--we found this spy following us about a half-mile back. He says he's the one who was with that elf..." Kennit looks around, remembering the conversation on the hill, and sees no sign of Rhodri here. He also notes that the hobgoblin is addressing the mounted hobgoblin, though the leader makes no move to reply. Instead, the white goblin speaks again.

"You're dismissed. Find the elf before our arrival or it will be your heads." The riders bow in their seats and scamper off. The goblin returns his look to Kennit, and Viscarg slowly shifts position in his high seat to do so as well. "Speak."

[KingOfCowards]

Kennit gets a good look at the raiders who he is certain will be defeating whatever army Vaul plans to mount against them. He is certainly outclassed and down to very few options. He knows it, they know it. Vaul will know it soon enough.
"Hullo.", he says plainly, ignoring whichever hideous monster threatened to eat his legs. "Not meaning to intrude on your campaign. But you kidnapped a friend of mine. The elf, as you call him. I was hoping to get him back."

[Keehnelf]

Viscarg watches the halfling impassively as he speaks, then inclines his ugly head toward the white goblin.

"Pah--" spits the goblin. "What could you hope to offer in exchange for such a one as he? Viscarg, the Hand of Flame, has come to scour the braying sack of goats you call a city down to bare rocks. Your choices are to flee or bend the knee. If you can prove your strength, mayhap there would be a place for you in our ranks? Otherwise, you will tell us what you know of your sack's defenses before we flay your living flesh from your bones and feed it raw to Catstrangler." He makes a vague motion toward the furry creature that watched Kennit's approach.

[KingOfCowards]

Kennit wrings his hands, biting his lip. "Yes, no doubt. I've seen Viscarg's might and it is clear that Vaul is doomed. I've wondered the same thing on my short jaunt over here...What I could hope to offer to one such as he. Would it at least be fair to show me that Rhodri still lives? All this talk of flaying skins and eating legs makes me wonder."

Whether or not they will show him evidence of his friend, Kennit does have a few offers to make. "Surely you can take anything you want from me by force, but I have hidden one of the dwarven rings. It should be a fair bounty for a simple elf..."

If they do not accept payment, Kennit wrinkles up his face and turns towards Catstrangler. "This one said he'd like to eat me. I'd be okay with giving him a fair chance. If he's not too cowardly to face me man to man. If I die, he can do as he likes. But should I defeat him, I get Rhodri back and we walk out of here."

[Keehnelf]

The white goblin is silent for a long moment. Finally, he looks briefly toward Viscarg and then begins to speak. "What is this about dwarven rings?"

[KingOfCowards]

Kennit realizes he has struck a chord, though he is surprised that they have not already learned about the rings from Rhodri.
"Yes...Dwarven rings. There were nine of them in total. We figured they had belonged to the old dwarven kings. Finely polished, all with their own stones. Mine had an amethyst...like this big...I'd thought you might have heard of them...the elf...he's alive still, right?"

[Keehnelf]

The white goblin looks at Viscarg, who simply shrugs. He turns back to Kennit and speaks once more. "The last time our scouts saw the elf, he was still alive. It appears he may have fallen into the Blighted Scar during the night a few days past, however. If he, too, has one of these rings, we can return after we sack Vaul and recover his body and the ring. Viscarg is not truly convinced of the value of such a thing, however--he requests that you show it to us."

[KingOfCowards]

The new information hits Kennit like a punch to the stomach. He kicks the dirt as he collects himself and tries not to show his disappointment.
"That's very unfortunate. Rhodri was a good man, as far as elves go. I'll get you the ring, but I want to join up with you. There's nothing left for me in Vaul, and it seems obvious that you have the more powerful army. You're already surrounded by a bunch of hard-asses I see, but I could be useful to you. I followed your army for three days unnoticed, and if I wasn't looking for my friend I would have run off without you even knowing I was here."

[Keehnelf]

The white goblin's grin widens. "Excellent! The mighty Viscarg has need of more scouts! Since Catstrangler took to wearing such ridiculous armor, he's been useless for these tasks." A round of guffaws and snickers erupts from the motley band. "Bonebite!" The goblin calls, and a very tall goblin, almost the height of a man, in long carmine robes and a heavy hood breaks off from the column ahead and approaches. He wears a heavy satchel over his shoulder. "We have another candidate! We'll need the cord and the brand." The robed goblin starts rummaging around in his pack.

Meanwhile, the other riders have begun arranging themselves in a rough circle about twenty feet across with Kennit, the white goblin and the robed goblin in the center. Catstrangler glee hands the reins of his draft horse to the gnoll and dismounts heavily. He eased some of the riding-stiffness from his legs and arms. He seems unable to speak Common, and addresses Kennit in chaotic with his low, rumbling growl: "This is even better. If I kill you myself, I get to eat everything."

As Catstrangler readies himself, drawing his greatsword from the sling across his back, the robed goblin finally produces what he sought: he draws a length of silvery, shimmering cord two feet long from his bag and dangles it in the air. "Behold!" He cries in a shrill voice. "The silver thread of Yorn! If you prevail against the bugbear, you will swear by the ancient magics of the thread and bind your life to the service of the Fire Tribe. Once you have sworn, you will be branded with the mark of the dragon, which all men fear, so you may never be taken to the service of another!"

[KingOfCowards]

Kennit is taken off guard by the hurriedness which these negotiations have turned to bloodshed, but in the end maybe it's not all that different than his gang back home. "So you want me to kill this ugly brute for you? I would have done that for free."

He draws his curved sword and readies his shield, whatever he has gotten himself into, it's much too late to back out now.