[Laurelyn]
Despite the delays the party made good time; only having to backtrack once, due to a swollen stream. There was still a chance to reach the village before full night fell.
Laurelyn refused to give into her desire to push the little group - not with having entered the depth of the hills, with a chance of ambush lurking everywhere. Now was not the time to be hasty and throw away caution. Particularly not with the pass they were riding through; high, sparsely-covered cliffs on either side of them, with more than enough rocks to hide look-outs. In the deepening gloaming the storyteller strained to both watch and listen for anything out of the ordinary.
[Ulric]
Ulric managed to keep his feet moving in time, an impressive task given his condition. What was more was that he managed to keep up with this gaggle of adventurers who had helped him. The weight of his hammer both weighed him down and lifted him up - it's earthy, solid feel was as reassuring as if he'd woken up and found himself home.
Something moved in the gloom ahead of them, then disappeared. He paused - nothing but the vague beginnings of a mist swirled before them.
"Fox." he said, almost laughing at his own foolishness. They were almost at the village, if anything, the chance of trouble should be lower.
[Keir]
"Huh?" Keir cried in alarm. The bunnies had settled quietly after their meal but as the terrain grew more menacing his sense of danger increased and his grip on his staff tightened. He'd slowed once long enough to attach the sling to the forked top and had grabbed every appropriately sized rock they came across. Though he felt prepared, a fox hadn't been what he'd been worrying about. He loaded a rock into the sling as he trotted beside Ulric. "Where?"
[Laurelyn]
At the sound of Keir's alarm Laurelyn turned slightly in her saddle, and in a firm but low voice said, "Easy folks - remember voices carry far in the hills."
She turned back and tried to keep an eye on both the darkening trail and for any movement in the rocks ahead. In this hills it _could_ be an animal hunting, but there was an equal chance that the hunters were human.
[Ulric]
Ulric jogged along, then looked at Keir and pointed up into the hills where he had seen the fox. Then, as he pointed, two shadows moved on either edge of his vision. He pointed at the second shadow, but it disappeared in the mist.
"Laurynell" he said, mangling the unfamiliar name, "go carefully." He kept his eyes locked on the distance, and one hand reached for his warhammer.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn kept her eyes on the terrain ahead of them, but gave a quick nod that she had heard Ulric. Even for one raised around the clans it was hard to see if warriors were waiting in ambush - these were men who had the rock and wind in their veins, who could become part of the silence. Her hand ached to grasp the hilt of her sword, but the time had not yet come for that; instead she pulled her long dagger from its sheath and held it across the pommel.
Then she too saw a fragment of a shadow move - just ahead of them, slightly up the cliffside, and amongst the rocks. And while she had a great desire to order the group back she had a greater feeling that they were already penned in.
Though she only could make out Thomis's shape in the gloaming she glanced in his direction. "Be ready," she whispered, pitching her voice that it would carry to her companions, "But hold your attack - we don't know who holds these hills this day."
[Thomis]
Thomis merely nodded; he already had helped Maeve slide off the back of his horse, handing her off to Fionn, who had pulled the girl away into the shadows, as if the highlander were ready to slip into the mists with mother and babe at the first sign of trouble. Thomis' own eyes scanned the cliffside, carefully, looking for those shadows which seemed not quite right against the rock surface. His own dagger rested comfortably in one hand, but his sword he left sheathed. The dark-haired Fionn lifted the baby carrier over his head and positioned it over Maeve's shoulders so that his own hands would be free. And so that he could place both between him and Thomis's horse, their bodies the only shield he could offer. Maeve's scowl he ignored, but simply readied his own knives. And cursed softly as the baby-uncomforted by her mother- began to cry, a thin wail rising into the air.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho knew he had to act quickly. The party had been alert to the shadows moving around them and needed to know more. Now, the baby began to cry and they needed a cover. He sprang atop his saddle remaining crouched. He began affecting his change before he jumped and launched into the air. Changing in mid-flight to an eagle he began screaming with his avian lungs to give someone a chance to cover the baby. The eagle began to move toward where they had seen the shadows to get a better look and a more accurate count.
[Clansmen]
Amongst the rocks - both high and low on the cliffs - croached at least ten warriors. To an eagle's eyes the shapes of bows could be seen amongst some of the shadows. The group seemed trapped in the middle of the watchers.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho circled around the the pass, imitating
an eagle's hunting flight. He would much rather have the men thinking
he was looking for a tasty mouse than observing them. As he circled
he noted the garb and weapons as best he could. He also looked for
telltale colors or markings that Laurelyn might be able to recognize them
with. It didn't look good for the party and if these men were hostile,
the attack would come very soon.
Having done as much reconnaissance as he
could, taking as much time as he dared, he flew back to the the party and
landed behind a boulder he knew would obscure him from watching eyes.
Changing back to his human form he darted between Thomis and Laurelyn's
horses, still slightly out of breath from flight.
He tried to relay the information as quickly and quietly as he could. "Men...at least 10...bows...watching, surrounded."
[Laurelyn]
"That they haven't shot is a good sign," Laurelyn said, "But I have a sneaky suspicion it's their move."
[Rudolpho]
As he began to catch his breath, he began to speak more clearly. "They were wearing checkered patterns. They had green and blue in them. Maybe another color too. Do you recognize them, Laurelyn? Are we just going to wait to see what they do next?"
[Keir]
Listening in the healer scowled and muttered
to himself. "Fine, surrounded again." He was beginning to wonder if this
was a constant routine for the Big Folk in this dimension. Resolving to
free the rabbits if any attack began, they'd have a better chance on their
own than riding with a target, he loosened the ties on his vest. "You just
stay clear of that fox little ones and you'll be alright," he whispered
while scanning the nearby crags. The first head that popped up was
going to find a rock flying in his
direction.
[Jacques]
"Jackals and cowards," called Jacques to the hidden men. Then continued in a lower tone. "Always hunting in packs with nary a backbone nor braincell to themselves, they magically inherit one of each as a group."
He pulled a long, red handled knife from one of the pockets in his jester suit and spun it lightly in his left hand. Fiend's ears pricked up, and his head cocked to one side.
"Fortunately for us," muttered Jacques through his moustache, "they only inherit the one."
Fiend yipped quielty, and then set up a long, high pitched howl, guaranteed to set teeth on edge.
"Just once, I'd like for you to keep your damn mouth shut!"
Fiend silenced in a second, and looked up at Jacques with large, mournful eyes. Jacques sighed. Getting attacked by this group of barbarians was almost going to be a delight compared to _that_.
[Thomis/Fionn]
The Oathbound kept a relaxed grip on his dagger, watching from the corner of one eye as Fionn soothed the infant into silence in a more gentle way than Jacques had done with the pup. "Checked," Fionn repeated in common, "green and blue and another color." It was unclear from the highlander's tone or expression whether the highlander could identify the clan based upon that information. Thomis looked over to Laurelyn, eyebrows raised in a question.
[Laurelyn]
The storyteller shook her head and quietly said, "Unfortunately there are many clans that have variations of green and blue in their tartans - and its getting too dark to see the pattern."
She looked back to Rudolpho and added, "But thank you for looking."
Then she motioned the group to continue its steady pace. She could think of nothing else to do - and the fact no arrows were flying down on their heads told her that the ambushers weren't sure about the groups identity. So there still might be a way out without bloodshed.
[Clansmen]
The storyteller's group slowly, carefully, made their way through the narrow pass, with the sense of the watchers staring at their vulnerable backs.
From ahead came the sound of horses' hoofs on stone, offering an eerie counterpoint to the sound of the groups' own, and from around a rock outcropping rode five men. In the deepening night it was impossible to make out details, beyond hulking shadows, but the lead warrior called out, "Who are you to call us cowards?!"
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn's brow furrowed - that voice sounded familiar, but the accoustics of the pass made her unsure that she was right. With little other choice left she decided to gamble, and rode Beast forward. "No one will call you cowards since you have shown the wisdom not to attack an unidentified party," she called out - her own voice echoing amongst the rocks.
[Keir]
Keeping one hand on his staff Keir slipped the other inside his vest and cradled one of the rabbits in his furry fingers. His eyes remained focused on the riders as he wondered if he could release his charges and fire his slingshot before the bowmen got a shot off. He doubted it but determined to try regardless if things went awry.
[Jacques]
Muttering something unintelligible under his breath, Jacques glared at the group of men. In his opinion, wisely left unuttered, any group of men riding around in the hills, in the dark, who hid behind rocks, surrounded a party of women and children, and then tried to intimidate them, was hardly anything else. Certainly they weren't the type to be getting songs and ballads written of them. Maybe the kind to have _jokes_ told about them though...
Fiend gave a slight yap, and then glanced cautiously at the jester. Getting no response, Fiend settled into a low growl that was barely more than a vibration of his small body.
"Damn straight," Jacques huffed into his moustache quietly. "Don't trust them either."
Regardless, it was Laurelyn's decision, not his.
[Ulric]
Ulric stopped, and peered through the dim light at the horsemen. This group of travellers had taken poorly to the news that they were surrounded, and already he could see hands reaching for weapons and eyes darting about rapidly. He could imagine their untrained hearts beating like humming bird wings within their chests.
Things could go very wrong if a fight started, he thought.
"As long as we don't fight, we can go safe", he said calmly to the others. For now, it was up to the horsemen to make the first move.
[Clansmen]
A long silence followed Laurelyn's words - until the lead rider called out, "I know that voice!! Ride forward, woman, and let me have a look at ye!!"
[Laurelyn]
The storyteller had begun to identify the way the lead rider mangled Common with his heavy accent. Still careful not to mention clan name, she called back, "Neither I - nor any of my female kin - have answered such a tone from any clansman!! If you want to see me - then you can come and have a look!!"
[Thomis/Fionn]
The Oathbound raised his eyebrows at the response, and kept his grip relaxed on his dagger. Fionn steered Maeve to the center of the group before slipping to one side. At Thomis's questioning glance, Maeve shifted the infant in her arm and glowered at the highlander's back. "Hillrover or MacLennan -- or Calhoun -- matters little to Fhaolain. They are welcomed by few." Rue hiccuped, and nestled closer to her mother. "She'll nae have her father's name," Maeve murmured, glaring at Thomis as if daring him to insist otherwise.
-At least let her have the loyalty of her uncle,- Thomis thought to himself, -if she cannot have her mother's kindness.- But that debate was not his. He turned his attention back to the cliff-sides.
[Clansman]
Laurelyn's declaration was met with low laughter from some of the other riders - a sound that was carried by the hills and cut off by a look from their leader.
Though he too was chuckling and after having a torch struck he rode forward.
"Aye, just as I thought," he declared, holding the torch up, and looking Laurelyn over, "Acair's far-wanderin' daughter!!"
[Laurelyn]
"You have that right, Gairge," Laurelyn said. She looked about her and said, "I see you have re-taken the Dun of Bro'n - is my father here?" Her tone had become weighted with concern.
[Gairge]
"Indeed he is!" Gairge said, "No Chieftain would miss the retaking of what is rightfully ours by blood and spirit." The wavering torch light did nothing to make his grin reassuring as he said, "Have ne fear, lass, no ghostly piper has been heard."
[Laurelyn]
The storyteller refrained from saying, "yet," since she had desire to call catastrophe down on her father's head. But she knew that the Dun of Bro'n - the Fort of Sorrows was aptly named, and that no clan had held it long. "How......?" she started to ask.
[Gairge]
"Ye've brought a good-sized troupe with ye," Gairge said, interrupting her question. "Were ye coming for a visit - or is this an embassy of seme sort ....like a proposition to have the bans cried?"
[Laurelyn]
"Not on this journey," Laurelyn, glad that torchlight played enough tricks that it would hide her blush. "We're heading for Morrow's Hold, but we do have some who need to rest."
[Gairge]
"As if ye thought I'd let ye ride through without saying a 'good day' to yer Da," Gairge answered with a laugh. "Tell ye people that they'll have safe passage and hospitality at the Dun!!"
With those words the clansman signaled his men to let the group pass and rode back to his own group - waiting to lead the way to the Dun.
[Laurelyn]
"It's kin," Laurelyn said as she rode back, "And we've lodging up at the Dun of Bro'n."
[Ulric]
Ulric frowned. Kin of Laurelyn's did not mean kin of his, and there was always the possibility that he had killed men from this clan. Regardless, his men had plundered the coastline here thrice in the past four years, and the people had already shown their contempt for anyone of his fair hair and eyes.
He kept silent, but watched the clansmen in the distance, looking for some hint of recognition. His hand tightened on the grip of his hammer, nervously.
[Jacques]
Fiend's growl faded and vanished at Laurelyn's words, and Jacques put that down to the woman's tone. Either that, or the animal had simply gotten tired. The pup's gaze had shifted, too, and he was now gazing at Ulric with wide, brown eyes. Wondering if the man had sprouted rabbit ears, the pup was so entranced, Jacques turned to Ulric. Then he noticed Ulric's nervousness, and the man's hand on his weapon.
Jacques nodded at that. He didn't trust them either. "Kin" or not. Muttering something about jackals and vultures into his moustache, he slipped the long, red handled knife back into one of his pockets. One of the easier to reach pockets.
"Don't suppose they've got any lager at this Dun?" he asked sourly of no-one in particular.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho recognized the fact that the situation had come under control and allowed Laurelyn to handle it from there. He crossed over to where Maeve was sitting and smiled. "Now that things are gonna calm down a bit, I think I should introduce myself. My names Rudolpho. I don't know if you knew, but I can do...ummm...animal impressions. You don't have to be afraid of that wolf because it was me. I have a question though. Why don't you love your baby?"
[Keir]
The Hortus had no idea what a "Done" was but from Jacque's question he guessed it wasn't a typical Big Folk inn. "Back you go little ones," he murmured to the bunnies as he resecured them inside his vest. "Maybe they don't have ale but perhaps a bit of milk."
[Maeve/Fionn]
Maeve's mouth dropped open as she stared at the young boy blankly, the
baby silent in her arms. Her face flushed with what might have been
anger, or embarrassment, she stood abruptly, jiggling another hiccup out
of Rue. "Ye might be best advised to keep yer nose, be it cheeld
or wolf, from other folks' business," she almost hissed before she whirled
on one
heel and stalked away from Rudolpho.
But she gave no indication that Rudolpho's assessment of the situation
had been incorrect, Thomis noted. As he prepared to follow Laurelyn
and her kinsmen to the Dun, he hoped that the Hillrovers' familial interactions
would be a bit more kind.