Prologue

[InnocentEmo]

"Iaggeryehi innudt wock spoi!" came the command from the Hostoff rider to the peasant villagers, assembled in the middle of the village, by the well. He was almost entirely nude, save for the jock strap-like cloth tightly covering his privates. Though naked, his body was not uncovered. Across his skin was some combination of warpaint and tattoo. The patterns on hisbody resembled that of the various coats seen on the breeds of wild and free Hostoff horses. On his face, he wears a white and off-black porcelein mask, it's form resembling a cross between a fearsome gargoyle like creature and a much more natural horse.

"Hyaderr!" He called to one of his companions, "Yadi udt ferrah goffi swer Norwasseen, eh?"

His companion, sighing, said, "Kah." and strode up to the villagers, huddling in a group for strength against these frightening foreign invaders.

"Norwasseen villagers, See people ov 'Ostoff deemand uh tribut. Any ov see food sat yuh cun spar wissout starving. Grain, peegs, cows, Wateveh. Weh...veery much reeccomand sat you do so..." The nude leader's companion said to the crowd of the villagers.

"Yahi- go!" He said, a bit angered by the villager's lack of...enthusiasm for the task of pillaging their own town to appease these invaders.

"Cecht, Vedda, Saszah." The leader turned to three other riders, one a female (and much to the Norwessen people's suprise, she is just as clothed as the rest of them.) "Yahi dagow sennah sweh pikhoss wen innudtza keh hunza vedt oss, eh?"

The three riders let go off the reins of their spare horses (all of the riders had three horses to themselves) and dismounted, unstrapping the sheaths on their saddles and carrying it in a casual yet still frightening position in their hands as they moved about into the village, going towards some of the larger houses.

The last two of the group, the leader and his rather unskilled intepreteur remained in the center of the village, tending to their comrades' horses and keeping a watchful eye on all of the happenings in the village.

(Place your characters wherever you wish. ...It should be ambiguous enough for that, and might help you figure out how you're characters fit in. Should be enough room too if Armillian still wants to join)

[Oubliette]

Nigel was out collecting herbs for his mentor when the enemy approached the village. He heard the sounds of several horses as they entered the village center and moved to see what the matter was. Surely something exciting was going to happen if it brought so many people together.

So it was, by the time the three soldiers departed their horses, that Nigel was within sight of the town center.

[Groo]

Scylla hears the commands of the warpainted leader and feigns ignorance of its meaning. The best thing she could do would be to make preparations for trouble. Perhaps this would go down without too much violence, but if they tried to make an example of the people...

OOC: Are these soldiers representatives of the ocupying force? I.E. Would resistance bring down an army on her head?

[Ricochet]

Dirk swiftly looks behind him, ensuring he is not being followed. He runs, hunched over, along the road, sack clanking along behind him.

*My family is too dishonourable. They steal from others to make a living. I'd much rather not live at all than have to do something so unlawful.*

The pack on his back was in fact a sack of goods that he had stolen from his shack of a home. No; his parents shack of a home, now. Metal clanged around inside as it bobbed up and down on his back.

He had gathered up these goods in an attempt to flee home, and find someplace else to live. The stolen goods weren't even necessary; he was simply getting back at his parents for their unlawfulness by taking what he could. He was clothed in his leather armor, since he could not fit it into the sack, and likewise with his makeshift shortsword, tucked into his belt.

He turned the corner, and tore down the separate dirt road. However, he was surprised to see a crowd of people in front of the path he usually took out of town when he went for his usual stroll. *The whole town got in a huff about me trying to leave already? My grandfather hasn't even gotten back from his thieving yet.*

Noting the horseman, he stopped, brought his sack down near his leg, and pretended to be an average villager. His unusually dirty leather armor, and the bulbous sack might mark him out as a bit different, he feared. He tried to keep the sack low so that the horsemen, or anyone else for that matter, would not see it amongst all the legs.

*I wonder what this is all about.*

(OoC: The sack is Dirk's backpack... not quite an actual backpack, but rather a dirty potato sack covered in belts and two different sized straps that he uses for carrying it on his back.)

[Groo]

The young woman hustles to her boarding room though it is her chain shirt and weaponry that she fetches. She had been away from home for quite awhile, after all. Her long red curls and light blue eyes do not speak of her skill with the scimitar she wields at her side. She watches out carefully as she moves through the streets, trying to avoid the looting soldiers, but keeping a keen ear out for any trouble with the villagers. They weren't her people, per se, but they had given her a place to live since she had fled her own travelling family.

OOC: Spot/Listen: 0
Initiative: +7

[Armilian]

Arn chatted with Dirk's grandfather as they walked back to the village. The two exchanged their close calls while on their looting run, each pleased with the loot they had found.

"The apothecary was very difficult to get into this time," Arn said, "but the village does need the medicine."

As the rounded the last bend in the road, they could see the village center and a number of strange horses.

"Looks like Dirk might need them first." the old man joked, "Looks like he finally got caught pilfering."
Indeed, the scene did look as if the villagers had singled out an individual to persecute for some reason or another.

Arn handed the old man his sack full of loot, and quickened his pace-- eager to assist Dirk if needed.

[InnocentEmo]

A woman's scream erupted, sending everyone in the village, raiders included, a little unnerved.

The looters' translator put his hand out defensively infront of the crowd, said some gibberish- then corrected himself by saying, "H-hold on!"

"Daszu!" He called to the leader, "W-what should I do?" He said in his native tongue.

"Stay there! I'll go see what's happening...Keep a good eye on them." Daszu said as he unfurled his sword, still sheathed, from his saddle. He trotted over to the direction of the disturbance, than got off his horse, walking maliciously over into a hut.

[Groo]

There's no question for Scylla. She immediately heads towards the sound of the scream. All too often, soldiers thought they had certain privileges when it came to the local population...women in particular.

Initiative: +7 Spot/Listen: +0

Dice roll with 2 dices of 20 faces: 18 points

[Armilian]

No woman would scream like that just because Dirk snatched a couple of apples! Arn realized.

Thinking as quickly as possible, his focus shifted from defending his friend to finding out the reason for the scream. It was probably just a big snake or something, but Arn had realized that you could never be too sure during these troubled times.

Drawing his Rapier Arn looked for nearby cover. He would then creep up to the town centre somewhat concealed by the surroundings.

*Hide check modifer+7*

Dice roll with 1 dices of 20 faces: 18 points

[Armilian]

*For total of 25*

hate to double post, but as we can't add modifiers yet....