Journal Posts

Tag: travel

I'm a man of means by no means...
Ah, spring in Salpia - that magical time of year where yer either freezin' yer arse off, drenched to the skin, or clingin' t'whate'er is nailed down tightest so's the wind nae carries ye off - in other words, perfect travellin' weather! And travel we did, up the King's Road t'the western turning and from thence straight toward the Varco Pass and into the Laerwellan Wood as was the plan. We was nearly t'the pass when Arcelli points at the ground and grunts in that charmin' way of his, "Fuckin' hobs." Now, t'those nae conversant in Cacciatore this might seem rather terse, but t'those of us who have traveled with our dear ranger for over a year t'was an obvious invitation t'go huntin' fer gods and country and cleanse the land of somethin' what obvious nae belongs there.

As Arcelli holds a special disdain for gobbos in general and has made an extensive study of their habits and abilities, such as they are, he was more than able t'track the blighters from horseback as we rode along. 'Twas rather nostalgic, really, as one of the first outin's we had was in the pursuit of gobbo earwax and I was in a bit of a reverie and nae payin' much attention but the next thing I realize was that slight below us in a depression b'twixt three hills was a hob band of nae more than a dozen already well and truly tied up by the spring grasses which showed that Arcelli'd seen them before they seen him so's t'was rather like spearin' fish in a barrel - right stupid fish at that though one of 'em was fair bigger than the rest and managed t'tear hisself free of the entanglin' vines and bust out arsehole and elbow over the far rise. As things appeared t'be well in hand with Raylen, Arcelli, and I pokin' various shapes o'holes in the hobs at our leisure, Hokur, bein' the strongest rider of us four, pounds off after said escaped bluenose at a hard run.

In fair short order the only thin' holdin' the hobs up is the grass so's Raylen just blinks out of existence, Clod and all, t'reappear at the crest of the ridge that Hokur had just disappeared over. Arcelli dropped his spell and rode off t'join the fun. I picked my way through the corpses makin' sure they was corpses and nae playin' opossum and assistin' those what needed it t'Sirkti's side or where e'er it is that hobs go when they're nae more breathin' and whilst doin' so I note that there's a damn sight more armor and weapons than is warranted by their current number - nigh ont' double as much which is passin' odd. There was one what had some life left in him so's I tied him up proper and commenced asked him 'bout it as Arcelli'd said they was comin' from where we were goin' and bein' forewarned is forearmed.

I'm fair certain I understand why our strider hates these cussed things; they're right contrary but fortunately they've an over-abundance of ignorance and superstition where the use of the arcane arts is concerned so's it was nae any stretch of my imagination t'get it t'talkin' in short order. It bragged 'bout eludin' the Regulars for the better part of three years and raidin' travelers and caravans headin' int' the Elven lands t'which I says they'd appeared t've met their match and it was 'bout t'say what had laid the Gashronk tribe low... at least until Arcelli showed up and scared the piss out of it which fair ended the interview and the beastie's usefulness and therefore days on the bright side of the veil.

The fellers got t'lookin' at the armor and noted that much of it was right ragged torn in more places than nae. Raylen made with some ambulatin' and cogitatin' and comes back with the wise words of Neguma, "Magic stings petrified wings." 'Twould seem Neguma's fond of riddles - or at least circumlocution. We packed up and headed on whilst mullin' over Raylen's riddle and between the all of us came up with the likelihood that there was gargoyles or a golem in the pass so's we'd have t'be on our guard or end up like Ginkgob and his mates.
Session: Once again into the breach... - Saturday, Jun 08 2013 from 7:00 PM to 5:00 AM
Viewable by: Public
Tags: Dust Up , travel