[Ire] Delivering a gift (Open to all)

[Gauls]

Season of Summer,
Era II of the Celestine Mandate,
Era XIV Post Fractum,
the Second Era of the Regency of Milo L'Evienne

The Shatroful Onreinn have received a message from the Gothmog Kitot himself. There is to be a special delivery made and the guide is buzzing with excitement. Not many deliveries ever go outside the Orckon area these days so any action is good action.

The Bolg Trog has assigned a Bolg Rakul to the task of gathering 4 wagons and then manning them with Rog and Snaga Rakul. The wagons are in place outside the Guild Hall and a few Zerm Onreinn are hitching horses to the wagons. The Bolg Rakul is yelling at the top of his lungs trying to attract the attention of passers-by to see if they can hire them to serve as Rog or Snaga Rakul.

"You there! You want job?" he yells at anyone that he can make eye-contact with.

(OOC: continued from the Ire Shatroful Onreinn location)

[Gauls]

The Bolg Rakul is quick and efficient in gathering Snaga Rakul and Rog for the caravan. With logistic skills like this, it is no wonder the Shatroful Onreinn are the most powerful guild in the city. Several persons, orc, goblin, and even a dark elf have been grabbed up to work as the laborers for this trip. Only a couple orcs have been hired as guards "Rog" at the moment but the Bolg Rakul is still working his magic trying to get more bodies to join them.

The horse teams jerk and bite on their bits anxious to get their loads unlimbered. Weapons are being stacked in the back of the four wagons for the rog and snaga to use, and last preparations are being made before the group moves out. Just a few more live bodies willing to work for a coin or two and then they'll be off.

[Gauls]

The Bolg Rakul, an orc assigned to lead this endeavor, has gathered the men he needs to complete his mission and loads them upon the four wagons. There are about 10 goblins, 2 dark elves, and 12 orcs hired as guards (rog). The rog are mounted on horses with light crossbows and axes. the snaga have short bows and daggers but those weapons are sitting in the wagons for use if they are needed. The Bolg Rakul looks to his Zurm Onreinn giving a gesture of luck before mounting his own horse. Gripping his spear, the Bolg raises it in the air and waves it forward signalling the wagons to move out.

Dust kicks up as the horses lurch forward jerking the hitch and the wagon into motion. Off the caravan goes winding its way from the Trade District through the gates of the sub-wall and then out the main south gate of the city. It is a rough ride as the wagon wheels churn over the rocky wasteland outside Orckon until they finally enter the woods now about 300 meters from the city walls. A goblin in the last wagon looks back as the city disappears through the trees. The trail they are now on is a worn out orc trail that is at least more smooth than the wasteland they just crossed.

A good 30 minutes passes before the caravan finally reaches the Sherian trade route that runs from east to west from Taralon to Narim. There is no traffic on the route this day as the Horde blocks the road between the two cities. There is a visible patrol here and there going in different directions giving the caravan a good sense of security as they travel toward the ruins of Narim.

[Gauls]

A brightening has come and gone and finally the ruins of Narim can be seen far off in the distance. The Bolg Rakul grinned as it came into view knowing that he has almost finished the first half of his mission without a hitch. The caravan has been traveling at a hard pace and the animals are worn. The bolg lets out a boisterous "HALT" as he holds up his spear. He wheels his horse back toward the wagons and points toward the snaga.

"Set up perimeter. We camp here!"

He then spurs his horse down the line of wagons until he reaches one of the vysstichi elves traveling with the group.

:Pointing his spear tip toward him:
"You, take 6 rog with you. Go retrieve the "Gift" from Narim!"

The dark elf had already been briefed on where to go and who to see. He nodded and then pointed out the 6 rog he wanted to travel with him. Since the dark elf had no horse, one rog staying behind gave up his horse to the dark elf and he lept atop it. Motioning for the orcs to follow, he jerked his animal's reigns and off he rode with his escort.

The remaining 6 rog and all of the snaga began to pitch camp off to the left side of the rode as the night came upon them. They would wait for the "Gift" to arrive and then they would start their second half of the mission.

[Gauls]

By morning, a sound could be heard coming from down the road leading to Narim. The Bolg Rakul had not yet awaken but the rog on guard duty spotted the oncoming group and sounded the alarm. The caravan camp stirred with everyone jumping to their feet waiting to see what the rog reported.

"Dey come! Da Gift here!" the orc said pointing down the road.

The group returning from Narim were not visible to everyone especially the dark elf that could only see blurs now that the sun was rising. The bolg began to gather his things first strapping his spear to his back then turning to his caravan to give orders.

"Don't touch Gift. Stay back but kill those that try to run!" he shouted for all to hear.

Coming up over a slight rise in the road the camp could see the heads of a group of people coming toward them. First becoming visible were the dark elf and then the rog that were escorting the Gift. They were mounted and formed a wide circle around a column of human civilians marching in a formation with rope tying one person to another by the waist. The people in this column were a pitiful sight. They were skin and bones with rags for clothes. There were no combat age men, just a mix of young boys, old men, and old women. There were no girls or young women in the group. Were these the civilian prisoners taken during the sacking of Narim two whole seasons ago? How could they have survived for so long even after the burning of Narim? How much longer could they survive now? Perhaps the orcs were showing a glimmer of good-will by allowing the prisoners to be returned to their lands? This was all to be seen.

The bolg has struck his camp and the goblins with blazing efficiency have already begun to load all of the camp equipment onto one of the wagons.

:Sitting atop his horse waving his spear at the oncoming column:
"Hurry up! Get the Gift into the first wagon! Move it! We must keep schedule!" he yelled.

The column of people were tired and panting but the rog hurried them along until they finally got them to the first wagon in the caravan. They would finish their trip resting in the wagon, luckily for them. The rope was released from each person as they stepped up into the wagon.

"Der 20 of dim bolg." a goblin said to the Bolg Rakul as he closed the tail of the wagon.

"Good. Turn the wagons and let's move out!" the bolg replied spurring his horse toward the last wagon in the caravan, which after they all turned around, would make it the first wagon in the caravan.

This whole caravan has been a lesson in brutal but efficient tradesman ship. Only a skilled organization could push their people to such a limit and not break them in the process of completing a mission. They were only half through with their task. Now the wagons would have to make the day and a half trip eastward down the road toward Taralon to where the horde lines were. This was where the Gift would be delivered.

(OOC: this adventure is closed)