Heading north, the party leaves Bluehill a rather shocked and… torn up town behind them. I watch them follow a dirt road; the dragonborn takes lead savagely riding a lower being of his own kind. The halfling and the teifling cowardly fight over who take up the rear. Their goal is about four days' ride from where they are now. It doesn't give me much time, but it's enough.
I take the form of Kallok and project myself to the leader of the tribe. All he sees is my face and he wakes up. I grin and watch him kick and burn his underlings. "Wake up!" he shouts to them. "Wake up!" The goblins groan, rubbing sleep from their eyes. They really can be quite cute sometimes. He communicates to the tribe, sending most of them north, but a few scouts in other directions: one group to the south.
"If we're all adventuring together as a party," proposes Nimbulus as they take the road "don't we need a party name? A team name?"
"You could propose that we form an actual party as opposed to just people walking in the same direction, which is what we are right now." snaps Jorinarn. Ouch.
"Yeah, we should be a party." Agrees Nimbulus, completely ignorant to the gensai's insult.
"The Pumpkin Boys!" Suggests Terdrador.
"The Pumpkin Boys," Nimbulus ponders, "I was thinking maybe like 'Birds of War'."
"Yes!" agrees the halfling.
"Why birds?" Jorinarn asks.
"War sounds good." Grayves comments.
"We could dress like birds." Nimbulus continues.
"I don't really want to dress like a bird," says Jorinarn. My gods this is boring.
Picking up on the only agreed upon theme, the tiefling suggests "Wars of War."
"Yeah, Wars of War is good." Grayves agrees.
"Pigeons of War!" The halfling just doesn't get it, does he?
Ignoring the bard, Nimbulus continues: "How about Battle-gears of War?"
"Solidly." Says Grayves.
"The Pigeon Boys!" Bekran continues on his own theme.
"Pigeon Boys?" Nimbulus asks, stunned. "That's even better!" I wonder, is he humoring him, or is he serious?
There is unfortunately no time to discover their decided upon 'team name', as their party is approached by some of my party. The beating of leathery wings and the padded feet of armed riders is heard coming toward them.
"Birds of War!" Nimbulus whispers.
The tiefling's camel starts to get nervous. I have never really seen a camel nervous. What has that creature done to it? I must know.
Bharhash sees this: "You have an awful mount, man. I'm sorry."
Grayves pays no attention and instead looks ahead of him. "Alright, you guys take the big winged things. I got one of the little dogs." Brave, Grayves. Real brave.
There are four great beasts approaching them. Two are dragon-like in appearance, but no front arms, only wings. The other two, as Grayves noticed, are dogs, but there's something not quite right about them. The dogs both have bones sticking out of their fur, their eyes are blood red and their teeth are unnaturally long. My minions. One on each wyvern and one on one of the gravehounds. Fantastic choices, boys.
"Random guess," Jorinarn suggests to his fellows "those are evil, or at least bad enough to fight"
"Should we try to talk to them?" Suggests Nimbulus, a wise suggestion.
"Maybe we should hide in the trees and let them pass." Suggests the dragonborn.
Grayves looks at Bekran. "You should diplomize them."
"I could!" he agrees.
After much pondering, the dragonborn shouts "Oh my god! Those drake-like things are wyverns!" Sharp shootin, Tex.
"I know what those are!" Agrees Bekran. I'm so glad you guys have got this.
"….and Gravehounds!" the dragonborn shouts again. I guess he didn't want to hide after all.
"Yeah! They're zombie dogs!"
To be continued…. 11:14