Cat and mouse

Shepherding Village

This is the home of a small, proud, and independent people who live primarily by herding sheep in the open lands south of the Great East Road. Once driven from this region by troll depredations, they have returned and appear to be prospering, perhaps because they can also profit by trade on the Great East Road.

Or rather.... we should say it /was/ the home of these people. The many sturdy houses and smaller huts clustered on a hill here have mostly been burned. Some are yet standing, more are nothing more than charred timbers. Once, they were safely ensconced behind a deep ditch and wall. The ditch is filled with the ashy ghosts of thorn bushes ... and the gate hangs crookedly, black as charcoal.

But a stone wall is being built by a group of industrious dwarves, and many of the buildings that were still standing have been repaired. The village is now a mixture of the charred, skeletons of houses, and shiny new ones.

A long, low, smoke-stained building, sprawling along the hillside below the caravanserai, appears to the south. Its thatched roof has miraculously escaped burning - though there are black patches across it. Thick lead-paned windows are dark. A group of industrious men and dwarves and a few elves are camped in the open area.

Obvious exits:

Gathering House, Caravanserai, and Great East Road

==============================================================================

                           | Yfelwydan Time (YST) |

==============================================================================

** Real time is: Wed May 05 16:36:12 2010, GMT -8 **

Elendor time is: Dusk on a Cloudy Monday, Day 8 of November 3049.

Note: It's nighttime out, so it's safe to wander outside.

==============================================================================

Dusk has come early tonight. Heavy banks of cloud roll in from the west, pushed by an icy wind that sets even the dark firs to shiver. Winter is almost here, and likely there will be snow on the morrow.

Beneath the gloom of the trees, something moves - a crouching human figure. Brev has a satchel slung from one shoulder, and from it comes a pungent earthy smell. Currently he is knelt down by the roadside, dagger flashing as he parts a clump of withered greenery from its roots. Herbs of some kind, then.

He works quickly, a scowl on his features as he squints at the darkened sky, and his gaze darts this way and that as though he expected danger. The dark is gathering, and human sight fails ...

[Shaaknar(#16331)] Human sight fails, and yet there are other eyes that are not hindered by the drawing darkness...

There is something there, sheltered by the twisted and naked winter-trees that linger nigh the road -- two points of light, red like embers hover amid the deadened foliage. A soft, stealthy sound comes as well, as though the shifting of leaves. Then, all is still once more but the lights of the crimson eyes remain, watching the road beyond and the figure upon it.

Brev's gaze passes over the place where that crimson-eyed figure is hid, seemingly seeing naught. But then comes that faint rustling of leaves. Some small animal, perhaps? The man's shoulders jerk, and the plant he grips is stuffed untidily into the satchel so that his left hand can reach for a stone. This he hurls with a quick flick of the wrist in the direction from which the sound came. His dagger glints once more as he shifts from full crouch to half-crouch, backing up so that a tree can shelter his back.

[Shaaknar(#16331)] If the creature is a small animal, it certainly makes a rather loud noise: there is a thud as the stone passes through the bush, followed by a snarled yelp, and the piece of undergrowth trembles violently.

A large shape, tall and black under the veil of night, slips from the leafy shelter, and out into view. It is an orc, judging by the way it moves and creeps, but it is quite obviously much more akin to Man than the goblins of the Shaws. The red eyes are lit by annoyance now, and the flash of steel at Shaaknar's side accompanies the ring of a drawn blade. The Uruk-hai snorts, stepping forward carefully as he turns his nose to the air. "Hiding, are we, manling? It won't aid you...I can smell you, and shall find you.."

[Combat(#13388)] Shaaknar unsheaths her Short Broadsword, and grips it firmly.

Brev tenses again at the yelp, and when the tall black shape emerges his lips part to utter a single curt expletive in his native Dunael. He lets the creature's words fade into silence for a moment - is the threat true? - then clearly decides that silence will not aid him. "Who's hiding?" he demands in curt singsong Common. "Hardly the best time for skulking, is it? Might find yourself frozen solid. And you don't want to find me." The last words are almost mocking.

He glances round, marking the best path toward the distant lights of the village, then turns his attention back to the goblin-man, his grip on his dagger shifting slightly as he readies himself for flight or fight.

COMBAT - Wielded: Dagger

[Shaaknar(#16331)] Even in the gloom, a nasty grin might be discerned. The orc laughs. "'Don't want to find me,'" Shaaknar echoes, exchanging Common for Common, although his is far from singsong pleasant. "Should have stayed quiet, little mouse." The booted footpaces are directed firmly for the tree from behind which the Man's words drift. "Shall we see how well the mouse fights? See how he tastes?" The orc shifts himself sideways now that he is closer, to get around to the front of that tree.

Brev's breath sounds more rapid, there is new sweat on his brow that sensitive goblin nostrils can likely detect, but a tense half-grin jerks at his mouth. He waits until the orc starts to move round the tree, then darts back toward the next nearest bole. "Have to catch him first, goblin-man. And I can tell you how he'd taste. Fatal." At that word his left hand tugs out a piece of greenery he'd stuffed in his satchel.

[Shaaknar(#16331)] "Fatal..my sword'll show you 'fatal'," the creature snorts again, but it swiftly contorts into an awful scowl as the uruk-hai finds that the speaker is gone. His grip upon the broadsword tightens, and the knuckles pale the fingernails make sharp grating noises. "Run mouse, and beware the cat's claws." Then Shaaknar is back to sniffing at the air, though this time his following of the scent is a bit more quick, irritated.

A pungent smell rises from the lump of half-crushed greenery Brev holds. Perhaps he assumes that the orc can see him well enough with or without scent. Perhaps he's just a risk-taker. In any case, as he smears some of the crushed mess on his dagger-blade he speaks to the creature in a conversational tone. "This here's bone-freeze. One touch from a blade marked with this, and .. well. First you'll feel cold. Then your arms and legs stop working. Then, if the dose is high enough, your mouth stops breathing, your heart stops beating. Useful stuff." The words pause as he risks a quick sideways dash to another tree - well, this one's more of a bush, straggling and thorny. A branch whips him in the face, slowing him and eliciting a hiss. "Why are you here, goblin-man?"

[Shaaknar(#16331)] Despite seeing well in the dark, Shaaknar's sight of Brev is hindered by the foliage the Dunlending has chosen for cover but as the human makes the dash for the bush, the orc's lips pull back in their dreadful sneer as his red eyes catch the Man's move. The orc pursues still, but at the herbal description, the boots pause. "Bone-freeze?" the creature repeats, as if debating whether or not to believe the symptoms. "No funny business now..I don't want no stupid leaf-ear tricks."

At the goblin-man comment, Shaaknar frowns. "Uruk-hai, that is what I am," he corrects with a spit upon the ground where he stands still watching the bush Brev has dived into. But he does not go nearer. "And we have come to burn your lovely little homes once again, as we did in a winter past." He seems happy at the thought, fingering the blade-hilt absentmindedly.

Brev snorts at those words. "Bit short-sighted, isn't it, goblin-man?" he queries, mockery in both words and title. "Think of it. With the village here you have it all - a supply of sheep, plenty of passing travellers. Burn it and you have ... nothing. Eh, your loss." He ducks down to jerk his hair free from the branch, picking up a loose stone as he does. A moment later there is a thud and a rustling from a little way off. "Hear that? Reckon it's one of the leaf-ears." Whether the 'Uruk-hai' believes that assessment or not, Brev does not wait to find out. Out he shoots from the bush like a startled rabbit and the next instant he is off and running, weaving through the trees toward the glow that marks the Shepherding village.

[Shaaknar(#16331)] Shaaknar's head jerks in the direction of that thud and rustling, and he eyes the undergrowth suspiciously -- but then Brev flees, and quickly the orc appears to abandon the idea of skulking Elves. He trails after once more, though his pace is noticably slower, perhaps more cautious as his gaze drifts to look upon the herb-smeared dagger the lad carries. "I follow orders," the uruk-hai replies simply, giving a twitching shrug of his broad leather covered shoulders. "Home's a ways away from here..got plently of horses and Men there we can tickle with our swords."

Shaaknar stops as the lights of the distant village come into better view: clearly, he does not fancy the plan of drawing too near alone. "So," the orc calls, grinning maliciously for a final time, his chasing apparently over, "think of it more as a brief visit from us. You're even invited for dinner -- how considerate of us, no?" He stands for a length, observing half-amusedly as the 'mouse' scampers off.

Brev's head is down as he darts round trees and past bushes. Is there perhaps a brief break in his stride at the mention of men with horses? Hard to tell.

What /is/ certain is the tree-root that snakes across his path, indiscernable in the gloom. He pitches forward, his flight halted. The instant he hits the ground he is curled and rolling, with an ease that speaks of practise - he does not drop the dagger. However, he has lost his precious advantage of speed.

[Shaaknar(#16331)] Behold an opportunity -- and as the mouse trips, the cat darts forward, the orc's dark leather-clad form drawing nigh to the felled human. "Scramble on the ground like a rat," hisses Shaaknar, raising the short broadsword that has so far been clasped by his side. Once he is looming overhead within range, the blade flies downward.

Shaaknar attacks you with his Short Broadsword!......and he misses!

The blade meets ... nothing. Brev, agile as ever, has rolled clear and is even now pushing himself back to his feet. "Ah, but rats bite, goblin-man. And their bites usually fester." With a tense grin of bravado he darts past the orc, his dagger flicking out in a quick, testing move toward the creature's left side. Almost a feint - but the point is angled to draw blood if it can.

You attack Shaaknar with your Dagger...[Combat(#13388)->Brev]

Your attack against Shaaknar mildly wounds him!

[Shaaknar(#16331)] The dagger wins a second snarled noise from the creature, and along the tear in the leather there wells a thin line of black. For a brief moment, the uruk-hai peers down at the cut uncertainly, and he whacks that side with his free hand -- no funny sensations...yet. "Better be just a weed," mutters Shaaknar, giving the coated knife a dark look. But he is just as quickly sprinting after the wretchedly elusive human. "Pull out the rat's teeth, and then it can't bite no more."

And he moves the broad blade out to soar through the air sideways, seeking to hit Brev's weapon-holding hand if it is within reach.

Shaaknar attacks you with his Short Broadsword!...

...and he misses!

"Hm?" Brev enquires innocently, leaping back as agile as a goat - this time he's lucky and there are no tree roots to hamper him. "Didn't draw blood, did I? Oops. Cut'll be stinging. Feel the cold yet? Starts at the wound, then it spreads ..." He backsteps a couple more times in silence, then snaps out suddenly, "Whose order? Where's your captain, goblin-man? Tell me and I might give you something to curb the poison."

[Combat(#13388)->Brev]

You forego your chance to attack.

[Shaaknar(#16331)] There is a hate-filled hesitation, and then the orc answers, no longer stepping after. "Captain Hephtur..not that the name would mean anything to you," Shaaknar sneers, but scratches a little at the place the knife has hit. "Feel something..." he hisses -- is it a true effect of the 'posion' or just the creature's mind tricked into imagining it? He steps no closer.

ARB: Shaaknar has "passed" on his turn to attack.

Is Shaaknar wrong? At that name a fierce hiss of breath leaves Brev's lips, and the muscle in his cheek starts jumping.

"Name's a name," he manages after a pause, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Here, then." Without looking, he reaches his left hand into his satchel - the 'bone-freeze' itself has been dropped at some time during his flight - and brings out a handful of the first thing he touches. "Bind it on the cut." He flings his offering on the ground, backing away swiftly, and after a moment he turns to run, back toward the village walls that promise safety ... for now.

 

[Shaaknar(#16331)] If the orc noticed the Dunlending's curious reaction to the name, he shows it not. Instead he stoops to snatch up the plant that Brev has dropped. "Hmph, skitter off to your hole, little mouse," he offers, speaking more to himself than to the retreating lad -- it is as close to a 'thank you' as Brev will get. Then, Shaaknar is turned, still rubbing at the small wound beneath the leather, and snakes his way back through the trees for the deeper parts of the forest.