Adventure 12 - On the Wings of Thunderbirds

After escaping from the clutches of the tribemoot and parting company with those who had fallen victim to a fever, the remainder of the party – consisting of Neelan of the Black Oak tribe, Hamish MacCranog, Robert Pennyworth, William 'Ox' Miller, and the rescued captive named Johann – rode due east as fast as they could without harming their horses. The frontier lay east, including the settlements of the Stanholmians and the safety of their forts and city walls.

As the group pushed their horses to widen the distance between them and their pursuers, no tell-tale war cries were heard from the west. The group debated the possible meanings of this as they rode, losing no time that they felt they could ill afford to waste.

Pennyworth, the hunter and Horizoner of the group, was the first to notice the birds.

High above, in flocks of thousands, the black crow-like birds had risen to mar the western sky behind them. Some flocks headed north and some south-east, and some almost due east and toward the party. Their flight was similar to flocks of starlings, complex and beautiful. Or seemed that way, until Robert commented, "There's no good reason for them to be flying that high. That's unnatural."

Within an hour, another unprecedented sight appeared in the sky. Four fully grown thunderbirds flew out of the mountains, each flying somewhere different in a generally eastward direction. One seemed headed toward the party, but it soon passed them some distance to the north, still flying east and taking no obvious note of the fugitives.

Spurred on by Pennyworth's superstitious concerns that the Poquoi might be able to commune with the birds and the beasts in the field, the group briefly debated the wisdom of keeping under the cover of foliage as much as possible, but decided against it when it became apparent that doing so would slow their progress considerably. They pressed on.

Later that evening, during one of the brief periods when the mounts were permitted to rest and the group caught some much-needed sleep, the party was once again attacked by wild animals. Four vicious wolves, the size of small ponies, charged into the midst of the group during Robert's watch. Soon, the camp was awoken and a rough battle ensued, the animals savaging half of the party almost to death. In addition to the canines, a large mountain lion – much like the ones encountered en route to the Poquoi staging grounds – also entered the fray, but was driven off before it could kill anyone. After the battle was finished and wounds were tended, the group took the time to examine the corpses of the wolves and noticed the same, strange deformity as before: patches of apparently-diseased flesh, rubbery to the touch and sporting small tentacle-like membranes.

Days passed in flight through the hills, valleys, and forests, with flocks of birds occasionally spotted high overhead.

At one point, the trail passed through a narrow canyon, perhaps fifty feet wide and twenty to thirty feet deep. The far end was visible, some hundred yards or so in the distance, when the lay of the land brought the canyon floor back up into the rolling hills. Ever cautious of the threat of more savage animals, the group rode abreast, scanning the top of the canyon walls for dangers and ambush.

When the group was roughly one-third of the way through the fissure, most noticed a figure standing at the far end. The man was frail and gaunt, leaning on a staff bound with feathers and charms. Pennyworth recognized him as Ijamo, Shivo's shaman and wise man of the Skee tribe. The group quietly discussed the Poquoi's presence, but were unable to explain how he had managed to somehow get ahead of the group, or why he should stand alone, barring their path.

Now extremely cautious, the group continued on slowly through the canyon, approaching Ijamo. And then, as suddenly as he appeared, he disappeared. He did not move away, nor did he jump behind any sort of cover. With their eyes on him, the group watched as one moment he was standing, apparently waiting, and the next moment was gone. The group reined in their horses and looked for danger, unsettled by the strangeness of the situation.

With a guttural bellow, a giant rock-like creature appeared out of the solid canyon wall to the left of the group and attacked. Squat and powerfully built, it drove a huge clawed hand into the flanks of Ox's horse, throwing the miller's son to the ground. Moments later, the panicked animal was lifted, kicking and screaming, and thrust into the creature's gaping maw, and it began masticating wildly. While it swung its huge hands around it, the area was sprayed with the blood of the dying mount as the creature gorged itself.

Neelan and Ox were both caught by powerful creature, and surely would have been eaten by the ravenous monster had it had less difficulty with the mass of horseflesh. Through skill and some luck, both managed to escape its embrace before it was able to continue its meal. It seemed to have a taste for horse, as well, as it did not restrict its attacks to the group but also to their mounts. Despite its size, strength, and appetite, the combined efforts of the party were able to slay it.

The group took the time to examine the rock face from which the creature sprung. It seemed, to all observation, to be a normal, featureless canyon wall. There was no cave. The party could not tell if the creature had been present and somehow camouflaged from view by its rock-like hide, or if it had somehow passed through solid stone.

The examinations were cut short, however, as Poquoi war cries filled the air, coming from the west. The party quickly distributed equipment and riders on the remaining mounts, and continued their flight.

The war cries continued as the hours passed and the daylight dwindled. Calls came from varying distances; some closer, some farther, and always to the west. As the rode into the night, Hamish commented wryly on how he felt like a fox, driven to the hunters by the baying of the hounds. Still, no attack came, not even after nightfall. The heroes decided to press on into the darkness, as the sounds of pursuit continued.

Before long, however, the group reined to a halt in the darkness of a sparse forest. Some distance ahead, firelight showed itself through the trees. Unsure if the fire suggested the presence of friend or foe, Neelan and Pennyworth dismounted and crept forward through the darkness. When the firelight showed the uniforms and standards of the king of Stanholm, Pennyworth revealed his presence to the group while Neelan rushed back to the others to bring them forward. Soon, the group were surrounded by surprised but militant soldiers from Stanholm's army.

Pushing his way through the crowd of guards, Lord-Commander Jannot Whitney was happily surprised by the presence of the party. He welcomed them to the encampment and led them to the mess when they made it known that they had been travelling with little food, water, or rest. Seated around a long table, the group devoured a cold meal of meats, bread, cheese, and drink while trying to warn Whitney of the pursuit and probable attack. Whitney dispatched guards to alert the sentries and prepare for engagement, delighted to finally meet an enemy on a field of war. The party learned that the battalion led by the Lord Commander was quite far afield and had yet to encounter any Poquoi on their foray.

The group seemed to relax for the first time in days, now that they were sheltered in the safety of the Stanholmian troops. The conversation took an abrupt turn as Neelan attempted to explain to Whitney that the Poquoi people could be reasoned with. Before Whitney could respond, the red-robed Axeman Thaddeus, clergyman of Torqua and advisor to Whitney, stepped in. He claimed that the savage Poquoi were no different than a pack of rabid dogs, and that the only language they would fully understand is the sword and the torch. "You do not reason with a rabid hound," he schooled Neelan. Whitney seemed inclined to agree, despite Hamish and Pennyworth coming to Neelan's aid.

Johann sat ashen-faced as he heard the party arguing for the civility and culture of the Poquoi.

A guard arrived to inform the Lord-Commander that preparations were complete, and Whitney insisted the group attend him at the command tent. Some distance away, well more than a hundred troops were arrayed in classical battle line formation. As Whitney began talking about the glory of 'proper' battle and while surveying the soldiers under a night sky, the hearts of the party fell: knowing the Poquoi followed no such rules of 'good form', any sizable native force could quickly decimate the ranks of militia by fighting in their usual guerrilla fashion. Whitney would not listen to the party's objections, causing Neelan to abandon the argument in disgust.

War cries were heard getting closer, and eventually some Poquoi riders were seen in the forests circling the field. Whitney, adhering to the rules of battle with which he was familiar, declared it time to send out the heralds. He would ride forth to speak with the enemy commander, and request his surrender. With uncharacteristic silence, the party made ready to do so, but Axeman Thaddeus announced that he would stay behind, citing that parleying with animals made no sense and that he saw no point in doing so.

After two requests and two excuses, steel flashed in Whitney's eyes and he ordered the Axeman to mount and ride. The Axeman's face grew cold, betraying no emotion, and he mounted to attend upon the Lord-Commander.

Standing mid-field, the small group watched the milling Poquoi fan out, encompassing the Stanholmian army in a rough semi-circle. Uneasiness grew. Then, with a blood-chilling warcry, a party of Poquoi riders charged forward from the far edge of the field, bearing down on the heralds with weapons drawn. "Strange," said Whitney, somewhat oblivious, "that doesn't appear to be a herald. Where's the man's standard?"

Pennyworth stood in his stirrups, raised his hands, and cried out "Dah cron wats, ho no she ont!" as he was taught to do to enact the Ceremony of the Unstrung Bow. His words were drowned by the pounding of furious hooves. Again, as loud as he could, he cried "Dah cron wats…" and the attacking group reined hard. But Pennyworth did not hear what he expected to hear. The attacking group, now close enough for their bright war-paint on brow and cheek to be seen, said something in Poquoi before turning and galloping back into the safety of the trees.

Pennyworth heard one of the braves say, "Stop… Redcloak."

Soon after, a clutch of Poquoi slowly rode out into the field. Shivo sat the head of the group, with Ijamo, Shivo, Apusat, Ketch and others visible in the crowd. Shivo appeared amused, much as he did the last time he met the group. He asked if they were requesting the Ceremony of the Unstrung Bow, and Pennyworth confirmed that they did. Shivo considered, thinking aloud , and actually seemed willing to permit the ceremony to continue. Ijamo, sensing this, began whispering about the treachery of the colsha, and Neelan was struck by the disturbing reflected image of both advisors – shaman and Axeman – trying to embroil their peoples in a war for reasons unknown. Despite Ijamo's insistence, Shivo decreed that he would consider the proposal, and that parley would continue when he had made up his mind. Both groups returned to their camps to think and wait.

Upon meeting again some time later, Shivo offered a proposal to the party and Whitney, using Pennyworth as an interpreter. Shivo suggested the two groups offer a brave for single combat, to submission and not death. While it took some convincing, Whitney eventually agreed, seeing merit in the ruining the morale of the native with the defeat of their leader. Hamish volunteered to battle on behalf of the Stanholmians.

A large, ceremonial battle circle was drawn in the centre of the field, and Shivo and Hamish prepared for battle. Hamish wielded his father's large greatsword, while Shivo hefted an enormous battle axe. Hamish charged into the fray leveraging his berserk fury, but Shivo was a master combatant and war-chieftain of the assembled Poquoi nations. Both took blows, but Shivo gained the upper hand. Hamish tried to turn the tide of the battle, but Shivo martial prowess was significant.

As Shivo raised his axe, perhaps the final blow to force Hamish into unconsciousness or submission, the eyes of the audience began stinging as dust and debris flew up from the ground and swirled in the air. A mighty wind appeared, buffeting everything in the clearing. From out of the night sky, a massive thunderbird swooped low, its mighty wings stirring the air and shaking the earth. As Ijamo looked on in terror and dismay, screaming something insensible, the bird slapped together its wings on a down-stroke, causing a massive thunderclap to fill the clearing like the hammer of some distant, enraged god.

Each of the companions was thrown to the ground, and stunned to insensibility. Time passed, immeasurable in their dazed state. At some point, however, consciousness returned and the group found themselves lying on the ground, still reeling from the deafening thunderclap. As they raised their eyes and began to take stock of their surroundings, without knowledge, without understanding, without the wherewithal to comprehend, a brief glance around the glade gave them the impression that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

No longer were they in a war-circle in the middle of a field; instead, they lay on the soft loam of a small glade amidst what, for lack of a better word, appeared to be a jungle. Large, broadleaved plants lined the perimeter of the glade, and each member struggled with the borders between reality and dreaming. But the change in locale wasn't the most disturbing, the most bewildering. The trees, the plants, the grass – none bore the natural green colouring to which Nature was accustomed. Instead, the jungle loomed in strange hues of indigo and violet.

When their eyes rested heavenward, bright multicoloured stars traced unknown constellations in the night sky.

As the group struggled with understanding, the ringing in their ears subsided and allowed other sounds to command their attention. The first sound heard was a desperate sobbing. As one man, they slowly swivelled their heads to find the source, and observed Johann sitting on a nearby boulder, his face cradled in his hands, weeping as if his heart had been broken. Johann did not appear to be as disoriented as the remainder of the party by the transition from battlefield to … somewhere else, but his despair was plainly written on his face.

Amidst wracking sobs which shook his emaciated frame, he uttered "Not again" in barely more than a whisper.

Then, the traveller drew upon some reserve of inner willpower to calm the sobs wracking his body, and hushed himself. Raising his tear-streaked face and closing his eyes, he began to sing in a quiet but sonorous baritone. His voice was eerie and uncontested in the quiet of the strange jungle glade.

The ghost of a smile crossed Johann's face before his eyes fluttered and rolled back, and his body tipped from the rock upon which it was perched. On some level, each member of the party knew that he had passed from the realm of the living and into Torqua's halls.

Consciousness and balance returned. Neelan, Hamish, Robert and William regained their feet and weapons, and paused to take stock of their surroundings. In quiet voices, they debated the nature of their plight, and tried to formulate a plan of action. Before arriving at any conclusion, however, the sound of a large creature crashing through the undergrowth was heard, and moments later a tree was ripped aside by a giant humanoid. The creature reeked with the stench of death and decay, and a cloud of flies scattered from its flesh as it charged into the glade with a roar.

Experience Awards

Combat XP:
4 large wolves: for L5 PCs, +750XP; for L6 PCs, +600XP
1 grey troll: for L5 PCs, +1125XP; for L6 PCs, +900XP
TOTAL COMBAT: for L5PCs, +1875XP; for L6 PCs, +1500XP

Story XP:
For surviving the pursuit; for a genuine attempt to broker peace; for facing Shivo with enthusiasm: for L5 PCs, +750XP; for L6 PCs, +675XP

END OF CHAPTER BONUS, including crossing over: +1000XP, regardless of level

RPing and Personal Goals Awards:
Hamish (2; +500XP) for his extremely true-to-character enthusiasm at taking on Shivo in single combat and his comments to Whitney
Neelan (3; +900XP) for his very in-character vow to the pitiable Johann and his dismissal of stupid Stanholmian religions
Ox (4; +1000XP) for Scott's fantastically consistent roleplaying and his conscious attempts to not metagame and throw around theories that Ox would not understand/express, and his unwavering belief in the little people
Pennyworth (2; +500XP) for role-playing the peace brokerage and stepping outside his usual comfort zone

Player Chits:
Hamish (1; +250XP); Pennyworth (3; +750XP)

TOTALS:
Hamish (L5): 15344 + 1875 + 750 + 1000 + 500 + 250 = 19719 (level up!)
Neelan (L6): 17159 + 1500 + 675 + 1000 + 900 = 21234
Ox (L5): 13250 + 1875 + 750 + 1000 + 1000 = 17875 (level up!)
Pennyworth (L5): 13552 + 1875 + 750 + 1000 + 500 + 750 = 18427 (level up!)