"Blah. Blah. Blah"
[1] The priest turns scarlet with apparently barely suppressed anger, he spits out the words with harsh emphasis, "Me? Serve under the likes of a bastard like you? You must be as daft as the King, you fool!"
He pauses, glancing to the other priests, who are looking away, before continuing with his tirade, "Why don't you go and fetch me some wine, serving-son?"
[6] The other priests are staying out of it, turning their eyes towards you and watching you expectantly.
Jarod takes all the troops he currently has under his command (One Heavy I / Ambusher regiment, two standard regiments) north to the Duchy of Blackberry. He attempts to do so in the best possible time.
[1] Somehow you've maneuvered yourself into some swamp land, your heavy troopers getting bogged down in the mucky, marshy land. In the desolate depression of mud and grime, you make camp for the night, and immediately regret it. The next morning, a few of your men are missing.
[5] Tracks, obviously from said men, lead off to a set of limpid, dark pools, and into the forest, before they are lost to sight.
[3-1] The tracks stop in the forest, it seems, and there's nothing there, so the soldiers must have started covering their tracks or circled back, but there's no evidence to support either.
Action.
[6] The orders are carried out to the letter by the people and your soldiers. Large, massive piles of flammable objects are amassed and moved, people even ripping apart their houses to contribute to the piles and barricades around the village. However, someone tells you, quite simply, that this fire will be hot enough to burn down not only the village, but it could spread to the forest, and even the other fields. [1] But the hills are impossible to reinforce in the short time given, the terraces are filled with troops and others, and they hold the high ground, but a fire-ditch is BARELY made, when the Wargs arrive.
[5]The lumbermen and women are some of the first to sign up, followed by burly farmboys and other young men. This motley collection, much like the last regiment of peasants, wield motley tools and weapons, and thick clothing and armor.
[4 vs 6] When the Wargs arrive, and the scouts make merry racket, a number of the Wargs break off to rush into the trap, loping along, grinning bloody grins, before the Alpha Male, the black-furred beast, howls, loudly. The abruptly stop, and a few younger specimens sniff around the piled objects, before, quite abruptly, rushing back towards the rest of the pack.
[2-1] The Black Warg, as your men have taken to calling him, lopes forward into bow-range, and your men open up on him. The arrows impact flesh solidly, being driven deep into his flesh, but...he doesn't seem to care. He plucks a few out with his mouth that are in irritating areas before turning back around, howling loudly, he turns his gaze towards the hill, breaking into a flat run with the rest of his pack.
The stop, just short of bow-range, many flopping down on the plain before the hill and panting, The Black Warg chews at another arrow wound, his maw covered with his own blood as he digs the arrow out and spits it on the ground.
Ramus is to stay on guard duty while the troops burn the corpses and the village and we camp for the night. In the morning Hrosskel and a group of scouts are ot go into the forests and find out more about the monsters we encountered and to return at first sign of trouble.
[4] The bodies burn without incident, followed by the town. Red-hot timbers licked with flames fall inward and collapse into ash. The village isn't even looted of the goods that the evacuees left behind, everything is left to burn. Camp is made somewhat away from the massive inferno, your men resting and watching the fire.
Hrosskel will lead the scouts into the woods in order to discover more about the monsters the group just fought.
[6] You and the scouts walk through the woods, silently, not a single stick cracking under your feet, the pine needles muffling your foot steps. Soon enough, you being to find skeletons, picked clean of flesh and meat, leading to a large stone door, collapsing out from a barrow-under-hill. Massive claw marks mark the stone, as does blood and other skeletons.
[5] A few of the Ghouls lay beside the gate, bellies bloated with corpse meat and carrion. A rotten bit of flesh, so obviously flayed from a human, considering the tattoos and markings on it, hang from the gate like a banner. A long, bloody, serpentine figure is drawn on it.
[2] vs [1] The Ghouls don't hear you, even when you scatter a skeleton's bones to pine needles. They don't notice you even when one of your men sneezes, quite loudly. Unfortunately, you're unable to count how many there are, the majority seeming to be resting within the barrow itself.