The Free Plain

"We are almost there," Vale said, grinning to Wolfgang and his grew as he climbed up onto the plain. He took in the sights, looking east to where the thunder clouds seemed to be approaching and letting out a sigh in response. "It seems bad weather's upon us though, and we can't cross the river to find shelter in the forest tonight. Never must we enter those woods at night. It looks like we might have to take the old man up on his offer, or stay on the ship until morn."

Vale strapped his sword to his back and huddled his fur cloak around himself, taking a few steps up an incline to look over at the majestic, sweeping grasslands before them. "Strange," was his immediate reaction. "There's a large camp just over there."

Now that he actually tried to listen for it, he could hear the distant sounds of people on the wind. "I wonder what such a large number of people are doing out here."

    "Hm..." he seemed to quietly take note of something.
    Ancient energies welled within the Greydan Band's leader, an instinctive response to the increasingly present "pull" on mana leylines the closer they got to the center of the plains, in a manner similar to how the energy of a crowd can cause physiological changes to those who join in. Aware now of this interplay, Wolfgang made a more conscious effort... a silent, covert response, intensifying his draw on the mana in a manner that aggressively competed with the strange, infinitesimal beacon of light atop the far mountain. Some, but not all, of the energy being drawn to this mountain was being cast in a way that illuminated its source.
    What was it Wolfgang was competing with? Still too far to recognize Zaltos as the being he was, he and his experienced confidence began making it into something of a game... a tug-of-war in which the presence on the other end of Zaltos' proverbial rope grew stronger and stronger...
    "Very interesting..."

Elijin took off his hat bowing in an over exaggerated display towards Lady Faisine as she passed by, he ended the gesture with his rather gleeful smile.

"I do hope you find better company in the goblins then the wild untamed beasts that we are, Lady Faisine." Elijin said after the bow as he continued on towards the other group of adventurers forming up on the west side of the camp.

((I'm personally fine with people gaining power as long as it's not in ridiculous, nonsensical or unfair ways such as eating a random soul and claiming a massive power boost or standing on top of a mountain and absorbing sunlight. I expect it's only fair that the power gained should have a value that's roughly both equal to the value of the method of acquisition and the value of the effort actually put in on part of the player in terms of roleplaying value, else it's basically powergaming which is unfair on anyone else involved.))

A warrior who wielded a one-handed axe and shield approached the gathering adventurers. It was quickly apparent that he was Elden, one of the volunteers introduced by Owyn earlier. He looked at the others, nodding silently to himself at the relatively good stock of people he would be working with.

"I'm Elden," he told them again. "Owyn won't be coming with us. He's asked me to guide us all to the Goblins, since I was one of the scouts who reported the initial findings. A quick synopsis for you all before we depart: the pass that leads around the south of those mountains to our west is one of the only viable ways to reach these plains on foot. We had a large caravan of supplies and building materials being transported to our camp so we could begin construction of our settlement, but a force of goblin raiders attacked the convoy during the night and have taken over our hard-earned resources. It seems they've built a make-shift camp on the mountain side of the road, using construction materials that belong to us to set up some sort of raiding outpost. There's about a hundred goblins there and we need to get rid of them - but quite frankly, we don't have the men gathered yet to do anything - or protect this camp."

He grinned at them. "So we've been chosen to raid them tonight before they can launch another assault."

"From what I've seen, the basic plan is pretty simple. The eastern side of their camp and the southern side of the road are lightly wooded. We can set Faisine down along the road to get an audience with their leader - distracting them as much as she can. We can split the rest of us into two teams: Guard Team will make sure Faisine can escape if she needs to and then storm right into the camp, while Team Sneaky will sneaky around the back, find another way in and murder them all in their sleep."

"Or failing that, Line will ignite the powder kegs we better hope they collected and blow the entire place back to the cataclysm."

He nodded, extremely happy with his tactical reasoning. "Well then! Onwards!"

He turned around and began to sprint westward, though quickly slowed down to a walk when he remembered how far away it was. Several miles, at least.

Provided Garo was not delegated a task or team, he'd side with Team Sneaky. He knew Barao and Cael possessed superior smell and hearing senses, and Barao at least was well-trained with commands and Cael too, seemed domesticated. He looked around to who might be the leader of Team Sneaky.

Zaltos would lift his right hand to his mouth and whisper into it. He would quickly close his hand, small flames flashed and disappeared. His magic for this wasn't potent, but enough to be picked up on since it was a message. His intent was for Wolfgang to receive the energy.

"I seek no harm. If you wish to find me, come alone." The words could only reach Wolfgang so long as he had a proper focus on Zaltos. The voice would carry two tones, one was deep and powerful while the other was words formed by what sounded like White Noise.

Zaltos remained hidden, but knew it wouldn't be too much longer till he was found. All he could hope for was a peaceful interaction with Wolfgang. Hopefully the message would keep things smooth.

"My name is Zaltos. What I seek is a desert. Right now, I would just like to make it through the night." Zaltos responded.

Zaltos would pulse in flames, his garbs changing immediately. The flicker of flames could be seen by the light in produced if one was as close as Wolfgang. Zaltos would then move from behind the boulders, turning to face Wolfgang.

Zaltos's body was hidden within a silky red cape. The cape hung from extensions of armor that extended from his shoulder. The cape latched together at the top of his breastplate. On his head was a helm fit for a king. It had a crown design on the top and a silky red cloth that covered from the bridge of his nose to the cape's latch.

What was visible was his sky blue eyes that shined and silver tips of hair that draped around the neck from under the helm. His whole face became visible when he removed his helm, showing revealing his tan skin. His hair was silver, long, and silky.

Zaltos would begin to speak, his fanged teeth would reveal themselves. They were very white, and after moving around the boulders, he was within six feet of Wolfgang. The teeth seemed to give some people without sense the wrong idea about Zaltos's origins.

"I was pulled from my home and spit onto this planet by magic beyond mortal spirits. I have no idea why this was, but I tend to find my answers in the desert. I was hoping to be able to make it there eventually, but when I arrived here, my powers were dramatically weakened. I've spent the whole day trying to gain power to just get to enough for possible combat. I was able to feel your tap on my energy to figure out what I was. Now here we are, face to face. If you will let me travel with you for the night, I will offer you my services for a day. If we find we can work together, I could possibly stick around. On the plus side of this, you always have fire." Zaltos spoke, making his point quickly.

    Before Zaltos stood a large, well-built and grizzly man of northern origin, his thick musculature, light armored attire of furs and leather, and scraggly blonde hair and beard a typical look of the northern raiders. A red cape, battered and heavy, rustically indicated his leadership of a hundred men, some of whom accompanied him today. At his left hip, a spatha remained sheathed in its leather scabbard, a smaller dagger across from it on his right hip.
    The tall, dark clouds and the occasional lightning had followed through on their early threat, as rain began to fall down upon the plains, building steadily from a sprinkle. Zaltos could see the outside of the burly man's left arm was tattooed from hand to shoulder; drops of rainwater rolled down an array of hauntingly alien figures, noneuclidean geometries and contorted glyphic, tribal features written permanently across his limb. Wolfgang suppressed the acquisition of mana, and addressed the newcomer with a genuine smile through a beard that was slowly getting wet from the rain.
    "Greetings," he said in his growl of a voice, "I am Wolfgang, humble leader of the Greydan people. I know of no desert, though our guide, Vale, may know very well. You are welcome to accompany us."
Wolfgang set his gaze upon his band, which was traveling along a single thin beaten path through a sea of tall grasses, then back to Zaltos.

The goblin warriors of The Red Claw were chanting and beating drums loudly in the night; feeling safe within the confines of their quickly made palisade walls decorated by staked skulls and torches. It was a relatively small camp, but big enough to keep the yurts of a hundred goblins surrounding a large, central area.

It was in this central area that a huge fire roared, despite the thunderous rain, and the leader of the tribe shook a skull-topped staff and yelled out chants.

"Rekotha, creature of thunder! We offer you this sacrifice so that you may direct your lightning against some other tribe besides ours!"

Kizzak poured a bowl filled with golden coins into a large, brewing pot. The offering caused groans of pain and disappointment in several of the gathered goblins, but they new the necessity of their ritual. Rekotha was furious with someone to cause such a storm and to not appease him would mean death.