Welcome to Gaia! ::

((beast, edit your post, we are just now pulling into the resting place there is no "camp" currently))

The Current time is 9:00 p.m.

The journey is quiet and uneventful as the group begins to tire and the caravan makes its way through the woods and towards the Haven outpost where they were intended to make camp and resupply.

It comes to your shock and surprise as you exit the grove into the clearing where the outpost should be, you see smoke and fire abounding the area... Your eyes bear witness to this:



As your hearts and thoughts race, Phineas calls out for an immediate halt and search for any survivors amongst the wreckage. Your heart is heavy, for the scattered remnants of the defenders are splayed throughout the area, dozens of brave men and dwarves lay deceased in the burnt clearing.

The caravan stopped and Erron assumed that they had reached their destination, however he couldn't shake the feeling that the air just....didn't smell right. He stepped out of the covered wagon and surveyed the damage with a mournful look on his face.

Their destination had been razed to the ground, it was hard to tell if there were any survivors left but it seemed unlikely since the damage had been taken to a purposeful extreme, he wondered if this was revenge being exacted for the last raiding party they laid waste to?

Erron shook his head and went over to Phineas and whispered something "Perhaps we should do a survey of the area to see if there are any survivors and if its safe to make camp for the night?" After all, whoever, or maybe even, whatever had done this might just be waiting for an opportune moment to strike.

((Has anything from the outpost been stolen or taken that anyone in the party would notice while searching for survivors? Do the dead still have their possessions?))

Tjaden, though accustomed to such long journeys, was glad for the rest. The burning outpost sent a warm draft in their direction, which smelt of smoke and a bit like burning flesh, a scent well detected by the huge, flaring Orcish nostrils. As for the carnage, death was a common occurrence in the Scorching Sun. Tjaden did not see this as a waste of life, for these people died fighting, defending what was theirs. What troubled him more was the size of the footprints....

As they made ready to sleep, Tjaden, still in his armour, made his way to Erron, the only member of the party he had really spoke to.
"Did you not says before, when we spoke, that you and your companions encountered a wizard who had Ogres at his command? Normally it would not irritate me so, but the size of the footprints are not human, which may be a sign, good or bad, given that you have come to Haven in search of this wizard..." Tjaden's voice trailed off as he let Erron digest what Tjaden had just suggested.

In truth, there was no way to confirm the identity of the raiders, but that is exactly what worried Tjaden. If it had been Ogres, he doubted the brutes would have been smart enough, or care enough, to bring the dead with them...unless commanded by someone else.

Erron was sitting with some of the mercenaries next to a small campfire stirring a camping cauldron of salted meats, beans, water and local herbs into a stew when Tjaden approached him with his suggestion. "That's right, they seemed....afraid of the man, more than anything else, but there might be lesser evils about..." He sighed, this was the sort of information he had hoped to get more information about when they were back at Tradewind.

He offered Tjaden a bowl of food and a hunk of bread "We'll need our strength in case an attack should come at night...only a few of our party have the ability to see at night so perhaps keeping a few of the fires burning would work more to our advantage than not."

It was a little bit of time before he prodded the man with a question. "So what is your impression of our escort group so far?"

((Please excuse me if Tjaden's speech keeps shifting, I am attempting to find the right balance betweeen socially trained Knight and rough and tumble Orc.))

Tjaden took the bowl and sat next to Erron with a nod to the mercenaries.
"Well, you can fight, thats for sure, but you still seem to be adjusting to each others style. You...or should I say we...we were each engaging an enemy on our own, so we were pretty much operating as single units...which is good for a couple of ruffians who probably never fought anyone they didn't outnumber. However, I fear what would happen if a trained group of warriors had been there today. They would have isolated us and proceeded to slaughter us one by one." Tjaden's analysis was punctured by loud slurps and slobbering sounds as he all but shoveled the food before him between his jutting tusks.

"Beyond that, I've only met you, really. I'll need time to make more than a first impression." Tjaden looked around for the druid and made an inconspicuous indication of the man to Erron.
"I do wonder what purpose he has for traveling with you, though. He seems more interested in whatever is in his head than what is out here."

As the group entered the outpost, he was appalled the site. Then again, he was grateful that the group had come after the attack. He then saw the footprints, and knelled beside it. What could have made these marks? He thought, somewhat directed to the grass, and trees which had witnessed the battle.

He then went to the nearest tree, and climbed to a branch somewhat in the middle of the tree, awaiting the calming whisper of the nature.

((ninja not Orcs, please edit. OGRES.. the are much bigger and meaner and mind you we have an orc in the party he is he knight... so yeah...))

Laren watched as the other mercinaries gathered near to a campfire, overhearing their conversation a bit. Finnally after much consideration she decided to join in after her stomach began to growl.

"I would say from how the fire's were still blazing and the freshness of the tracks we just missed our destructive friends by no more than a few hours. So your feeling of being watched, wizard, could be not far off at all, " she said as she took she seat next to Selce, "the name is Laren if you care to know... Give me some of that stew, it smells good."