A Long Way Home - game thread, players only!

Moftar to Maxwell:

You said something about “only two horses?” I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.

Clayton to group: “Everything was fine when my watch was over.”

Maxwell cracks a little grin at Moftar, then grunts. “Good thing we didn’t load them up with extra supplies.”

To Gerald: “The horses were there when I began my watch - I was walking a standard perimeter around the camp. I’ve no idea how they could have been taken without my seeing.”

I am assuming Cobar went first, with me second, and Maxwell third. Correct me if I’m wrong.

Clayton to Maxwell: “Well, they were there when I finished my watch.”

Clayton draws his sword and points it towards Maxwell.

“Did you sleep during your watch? Or did you aide in the theft of the horses?”

He begins to walk towards Maxwell sword pointed straight ahead.

Maxwell tilts his head and watches Clayton approach, apparently unconcerned. Since his watch has just ended, he’s still fully outfitted with shield and armor, though his sword is in its sheath.

“Now, son,” he says slowly, one hand resting on the hilt of his blade. “Right now you’re misjudging two things. The first is my reputation as a mercenary and the second is my reputation with a blade. The first makes you a fool, but the second is liable to make you a dead fool.”

He narrows his eyes, thumbing aside the leather strap that holds his sword in its sheath. His voice slows to a lazy drawl.

“Far as I’m concerned, son, you take one more step towards with me that toy of yers, and your family’s contract with mine - a contract that’s bein’ paid on credit, I should add - ain’t worth the paper it’s been inked on.”

Cobar watches the drama between the group. He’s kind of looking forward to the outcome of this display of machismo, but realizing that it’s not going to benefit anyone in the long term, he addresses the potential combatants:

"You two want to come to blows about this, that’s fine with me. But I’d hate to miss the show, and I’d like to take a close look at the area and see if I can estimate when the events happened and what roughly transpired. By comparing tracks to the area around them, you can usually figure out how fresh they are. Granted, that usually works better on a scale of days rather than hours, but given that various events tend to occur at certain times of the night–for example, dew goes through a cycle of condensation and evaporation, there might be enough evidence to clue us in as to what happened.

“So if you could do me the favor of not killing each other until I return with my findings, if any, I’d appreciate it, since I’d hate to not be a spectator to all the fun. But if I can’t find anything, feel free to come to blows over this. Heck, it makes my job easier if there’s one less mouth to cook for and feed.”

With that said, Cobar walks to where the horses were and starts actively investigating the area, looking for if the various tracks were made by running or walking, seeing if he can determine the time, seeing if anything was left behind by the perps, etc.

Moftar, scratching at fleas and removing some of the larger bits of tree root from his tangled hair, stands unconcernedly aside as Maxwell and Clayton engage one another. While Cobar examines the tracks, he wanders around the perimeter of the camp looking for clues, calling Cobar’s attention to any additional tracks or signs he might find. He seems strangely focused, as if something about this situation has shined through the haze he normally lives his life shrouded within. Occasionally he’ll mutter a few words of prayer, or wave a charm at something unseen, but he doesn’t seem to be making much progress.

OOC: I know I left the Detective skill off my list, but I presume I have SOME ability to perceive clues… let’s say I’m using that, now. In addition, any ability Moftar might have to detect magic, he’ll also be using, as well as prayer as applicable.

Gerald too watched the interaction between Clayton and Maxwell for a few moments, then steps forward.

"Gentlemen! Enough!

Clayton, your passion is appreciated, but rather foolhardy…and I suspect rather misplaced in this instance. If our Mr. Grey were going to go to the trouble of stealing our horses, I doubt he would remain here with us afterward. No, I fear the solution to this puzzle is not quite so simple…"

Looking hard at Maxwell, he continues, “Save your swords; I have a feeling they’ll be needed soon enough.”

After a few moments, Gerald looks over at Cobar, who has begun his investigation. He looks as though he is about to call out, then changes his mind; instead he strides across to the other side of the camp, where Moftar is puttering about. “Moftar, did you see or hear anything during the night?”

Anyone can use their WITS to search for clues. Those with detective talent are just naturally better at it.

I’ll update the thread in the next few hours. See you soon!

Moftar to Gerald: “Oooh, I see how it is, M’Lord! Years and years of “Moftar, get out of there!” and “Moftar, get off of that!” and “Moftar, stop licking my horse!” and now suddenly you need me and it’s “Oh Mighty Moftar, bless me with your knowledge that I may see the light!” I see how it is, oh yes, now it all becomes clear to Moftar!”
“…but yeah, something here ain’t quite right. Let me check one last thing first, but a hunch, I have, that on reflection, things may be larger than they appear.”

Tasha stares at the group of bickering men with bleary eyes before slowly wiping away the sleepsand to peer at the camp. “How could the horses have made all these tracks and not a single one of us wakes up? I was sleeping right near them, I would have heard something.”

“Are the horses the only thing missing?” Tasha asks, as she wanders around the camp poking at suspicious dirt clods and their packs.

There appears to be nothing else missing, except for the horses and their leads and saddles.

Tasha is unsuccessful in making much sense of the tracks left behind by the horse and the thief or thieves.

Gerald spots several important clues as he looks over the scene. At the tree where he had tied the knot for his horse’s lead the night before, the grass and twigs below have been disturbed. Something had been set on the ground there, likely while the thief was untying the knot. The item set on the ground had a sharp edge, as some blades of grass have been sliced. The imprint on the ground is much larger than a dagger, but smaller than a sword. Gerald has the uncomfortable realization that the size of the object would be just the right fit for a goblin weapon.

Cobar also has success investigating the area. His trained eye can see the thief’s tracks plain as day, both entering the camp and exiting with the horses from an eastern direction. He’s quite confident he could lead the group to the thief if required, as the thief doesn’t seem to have any particular talent for covering his tracks.

However, to the east is a network of caves which had once served as a goblin lair. Less than a month before, Cobar’s people had invaded the lair and driven the goblins out. It would be unlikely that any goblin would have returned to the caves so soon, but all of the evidence seems to point in that direction…

Maxwell regards Gerald for a moment and then grunts, removing his hand from the hilt of his sword and pointedly turning his back on Clayton. He follows the older man to the imprint on the ground.

“The good news is that they would’ve attacked us outright if they thought they could’ve gotten away with it. The bad news is that they’re probably trying to lure us into an ambush. Tricky bastards, goblins.”

Gerald stares off to the east for several long moments, then turns around and looks at the assembled party.

"So, they know exactly where we are, how many we are, and how fast we’re likely to be able to travel. Meanwhile, we have no idea of their strength, numbers, proximity, or intent.

Maxwell makes a good point; there must have been only a couple of them last night, or else they could have overcome us…considering we had no idea they were ever in our camp at all. If we could catch up to them before they can rejoin their main force, we might be able to recover our horses, *and *keep our presence here from being known.

But if we’re too far behind them, we might be marching directly into our own graves.

Any idea of their number, or how many hours start they have on us, Cobar? Moftar?"

Tracking is not a perfect science, but more of an art form. Cobar is probably the best there is, but even he can’t be sure exactly how many there are. He does know that it was a small group, probably between 1 and 3 individuals. One thief could have conceivably led both horses away.

Cobar responds to Gerald’s question.

"As far as how many were here last night, I can’t say for certain. There couldn’t have been more than 3. I do know the tracks are easy enough to follow and that they lead off in the direction of a network of caves that the goblins were using as a lair not too long ago until my people drove them less than a month ago. It doesn’t seem likely that any would have returned at this point, though, since they’d know we’ve been monitoring the area. The idea that at least one is escaping detection by both my people and managed to sneak into our camp during active watch does not bode well.

“As far as when, apparently sometime on 3rd watch based on the horses still being here by the end of second.”

“I vote we look into this, but the decision ultimately lies with you. I will have to get word to my people of these findings at some point regardless.”

Moftar approaches the group, paying no attention to the wind’s direction, and makes no attempt to remain a polite distance away. In fact, there’s a strange fire in his eyes and a hardened, almost… dare you say it… lucid look in his eyes. In one hand he holds a broken twig; in the other, a bit of twine wrapped around a small oddly-shaped pebble. He holds these forward for group inspection (as if they could possibly have any meaning) and says:

“Folks, we have a problem, and it’s not a lack of horses, and it’s not goblins.”

(dramatic pause)

“This positively reeks of witchcraft… we have a demon.” Duhn-duhn-duuuunnnn!

Tasha shoots a dubious look at Moftar. “What? Demons don’t ride horses, do they? Can’t they just fly or demon-ize themselves away?”

Once the group has made a final decision on whether to pursue the thieves, I’ll update the game. So far it looks like that’s the direction you guys are leaning in, but I don’t want to assume anything.

:::Crickets chirp:::

Wow, did I kill this thread already?

Moftar to Tasha: “Demons? They can do whatever they want, kid. All I know is that THIS one wants to stop Gerald Blake. Why it chose to only take our horses, I have yet to discover. Regardless, I intend to find out.”

Moftar drops his twig and twine-wrapped pebble and begins walking east, following the tracks as best he can, regardless of whether or not the rest of the party follows.