PI: Scouting and sorcery - Torc- 27th MT

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Torc Blackfoot
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Post by Torc Blackfoot »

OOC: Emailed you a question regarding the previous post. Will continue with a “hazy” recollection.

Torc awoke to the morning light, filtering threw the leaves and reflecting off the dew. It felt like the small forest outside of his boyhood hamlet. A day where Blaire would come walking out of the wood and show what the morning catch was.

Yet as Torc’s senses focused, he could feel that this forest’s heartbeat was different. It was the slow timeless beat of the green he had grown up in. No this heart beat was like a man running up a mountain. It felt dangerous and loud, for the noises of the forest came hard and strange to Torc’s pointed ears. The strange fern that grew in front of his vision had a harsher color then the small gentle green yellow leaves he was used to.

As Torc moved he was aware of Zeke, and then he remembered the present. Torc vision upon arriving here had the correct insight. The green creativity and balance of this place was being overrun by the white order of the Oneists. Order wasn’t good or bad, in fact Torc had the suspicion that order could be used for both. In magic order lent itself to speed and strict results. Battlemage’s needed speed and repeatable results, their ritualistic style help them to cast more often and faster. Yet it also meant that regardless of the aether environment around them they would continue to do it the same way every time. Therefore counter weave’s could use their sense of ritual against them. Small subtleties in the fabric of the Aether could unravel a battlemage’s weave every time, while those small subtleties could help focus one’s on art.

Torc began to think upon the juxtaposition line of thinking. Therefore a ward would benefit a great deal more from continue flux of the aether built within its structure. Like a road, a cart wouldn’t have any problems going down a paved cobblestone road, yet lend it to a gravel road when the rains come, that same cart might bust an axle.

Quietly Torc rose and listened to Zeke’s summation of choices. “The future is made of choices, but the present is for action. My gut says we should follow the one and kill the panling before it is able to make contact, but we can not afford the time delay. If we had horses and this was open country, with the knowledge that we had days to catch up with the other two… well if wishes were fishes, then no man would go hungry.”

“Nay, Zeke, we will go after the two. The half giant only has a few days of life in him, therefore we should follow the pair. Even if the two were somehow able to patch that fellow up, nothing short of magic or miracle would keep the half giant from tearing stitches and generally being as weak as a babe. The lone panling might be setting up an ambush, but that is playing with his friends life, and it is no guarantee that it will work. It’s more likely a distraction and the necessity of the other two, forces them to a camp where there exists a healer and safe place to rest.”

“Besides the orders are to find the enemy encampment and visual confirm its whereabouts. Otherwise, we would all have stayed at the base camp and let magic find our way.” Truthfully Torc wasn’t happy about the order. It seemed crazy to began with, why not send out airship for information, why not allow the battle mages of Prismatic College to find the targets, there just were too many why’s. Yet as soon as Torc and Zeke found the enemy encampment and gather a few bit of information they would be off like hares in a fox hunt. Hopefully they could make it back to the city in one piece.
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Post by Maeve »

Zeke nodded and proceeded to break up camp. Soon enough it was time to move on, silently through the green, mysterious forest that was by now fully awake. Soft cat calls to and fro from various species proved they were not alone, life all around them. Now and again Zeke would point out a trace of where their prey had passed. A drop of blood on a leave. A broken twig.

OOC: your temp is here!
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Post by Torc Blackfoot »

As Zeke showed Torc the signs which existed to make the panlings trail, Torc tried to apply the knowledge in the field and to his own apprenticeship. Tracking and divination were in some ways very similar. Divination was the ability to look in the great sea of time and space and find that one thing, whether it be a moment, place, or object, and bring it back from the past to you. Tracking was being observant and following the markers to ones goal, regardless of the surrounds it was the world that led them to their marks.

It was fun in a way, tracking. It reminded Torc of simpler times with Blaire. Hunting and tracking game throughout the forest near the small little village. It brought Torc a small piece of tranquility in war that rage around them. There were happier times and Torc wished for them, he wished for the feeling of holding a soft woman in his arms as they watched the dying fire by their bedside, he ached for quiet times and musty volumes with the pre-dawn glow reflecting of the seams, and he aspired to one day hold enough power to make the merchant-nobles listen with respect.

It was good to yearn for things, but in the reality of the world he might die face down in this forsaken soil. Just another nameless volunteer, dead for a good cause, but dead none the less.

OOC: Welcome, hope I don’t disappoint.
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Post by Vanadius »

OOC: Sorry for the long wait. But now lets get it going again! :)


The tracks in the wilderness continued to make themselves seen and known. The droplets of blood ceased, but the broken branches, bits of cloth, and even a clear footprint or two made the trail almost easy to follow.

After a couple of marks, voices could be heard. It was readily and soon apparent that these were not the voices of the prey they sought, but instead were a small group of men laughing.

Just ahead, on the bank of one of the island innumerable streams and babbling creeks, was a patrol of humans. They numbered nine in all, and two were kicking a large pine cone back and forth between them as the others watched and laughed. their sentry, a young man with long stringy hair was perched on a boulder, and was looking the exact opposite of where he should have been looking. He had a long bow across his lap, and an arrow was set to the string, but he held casually in one hand and it was obvious he did not see Torc and Zeke approach.
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Post by Torc Blackfoot »

OOC: I understand, too bad the war is almost over and all I have done is look around for Gatetown in these woods. So much for Torc the war hero.

Torc looked at the patrol of men curiously. This wasn’t there prey nor was it the enemy encampment. Looking back at Zeke his eye brow rose in a questioning manner. Torc knew that Zeke hadn’t lost the trail nor had he led them astray, but something wasn’t right.

The possiblilty of fighting again, after his near death in battle didn’t fill him with glee. However, nether did the idea of failing at his mission. Zeke was a decent shot with the crossbow and he could probably take out two of the patrol before they were ready for a counter-attack. That left seven for Torc’s magick to take care of, and truthfully on a good day Torc probably could take out three maybe four. Yet today, hadn’t been one of Torc’s better days. By the One’s sweaty hairless balls, today had been down right horrible.

Yet Torc had to look on the bright side of the sky. When he had come to this One forsaken island, the Oracle of the Gibbets had given him a vision. The Oneist and Order would win the war, too bad the whole region needed to meld with the some of the views in this pagan culture. Order could be used for good and for ill, and if the Oneists didn’t allow creative thought to happen then tradition and order would crush them.

Torc let out a small soft sigh, barely more then a whisper and motioned for Zeke to go move back in the wood. The prey had slipped them and the only thing that was left was for Torc to try magick to track down where enemy was. So silently and stealthy Torc tried to moved back from the clearing till both him and Zeke were out of ear and eye range.

Torc would quietly tell Zeke that the odds were to great, and that their mission wasn’t to engage the enemy every chance they receive. They were a scouting party and their mission was to find the enemy encampment. So Torc would try his divination magick and see if it would work. Otherwise they would go back to Aveas and relate all of their findings to the Captain. Torc could push it off on the fact they were running low on supplies and that they had made significant headway into jungle and could report back on plausible heading for the enemy.

But for now Torc waited quietly for what Zeke would say.
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Post by Vanadius »

Zeke seemed surprised and a bit taken aback.

"Has to be a new partrol and an even newer camp. We we're behind them too close for these guys to have been there that long."

He indicated the "new guys" with a raise of his head and point of his nose in their direction.

I say we skirt 'em and pick up the trail on the other side."

As Torc began to show signs of using his magic, Zeke tapped him on the shoulder.

"Wait... wait. Save that for the other side. It's the stream that will cause the most noise, so we just need to find a good few rocks to hop over out of earshot."

Zeke looked at Torc expectantly. From the gleam in his eyes, the achadhiel could tell that Zeke wasn't about to give up that easily. He had the look of a hound that caught the scent now.
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Post by Torc Blackfoot »

“Sounds fair. I just didn’t feel like trying to set all there clothes on fire at once. I probably could have used my magick to slice open a couple of their throats, but then they would have noticed it. Aye lets loop around them, I will follow your lead, and if we lose the trail I will give my magicks a try.”

Torc nodded at Zeke, the man wouldn’t give up, and Torc respected it, he wanted to find the enemy encampment. Torc made ready to follow Zeke as quietly as best as he could.

OOC: Sorry for the wait I have been on vacation.
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Post by Grant »

Skirting the scouting party, Torc and his guides found not only the trail of their quarry, but the trail left by the scouts as well. They were together, as if the scouts had sent the wounded half-giant and his companions back along the same route they had taken. Leaving the scouting group unaware, they forded the narrow river and followed the trail further south southwest until even more voices could be heard...and an entire army awaited.

There were three hundred of them, and they were clearly an army of Panling defenders collected to do battle. A hundred of those were the legal, dangerous centaur...and a scattering of woodsmen, both adhiel and human, made up the remainder, men that looked ill-suited to the traditional battlefield but were no doubt imminently skilled with their bows. They were camped for now, the dots of tiny, hooded cooking fires spreading through the glades like distant fireflies...but it didn't take Torc long to determine the general number of combatants, and their general disposition.

There were patrolling sentries protecting the perimeter of the camp itself, and the next one would pass their position in another ten burns or so. Just within the firelight of the first firepit, a group of five centaur and three adhiel were collected, each munching upon fruit and bread and all curiously silent...no doubt a sign of weariness after a long day of travel.

"Sir..." hissed Zeke, hoping to get Torc's attention. None of them had been spotted as yet, a lucky turn of events for them. Zeke didn't need to say more if one were to see the expression upon his face. Gatetown might have been a lofty goal for their scouting mission...but Gatetown wouldn't have three hundred soldiers defending it. Especially if the bulk of Gatetown's warriors had already taken the field...

...possibly headed to Aveas already.
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Post by Torc Blackfoot »

Torc gazed upon the dozens of soft flicker camp fires. The enemy was on the move, and Torc needed to make sure that the information gleamed was reported back to his superiors. So as Zeke rasped his opinion, Torc nodded his head, feeling the branch slowly put back into place to hide his view. Quietly Torc did his best to be stealthily and quick. Zeke and Torc needed to move back into a safe area where Torc could use his magicks.

Torc was going to need a few burns in order to send a small missive. His time with divination magics had taught him the basics in which to have sound carried over a great distance. Now he wanted to carry his voice over the isle to his commander, or another mage. He probably couldn’t carry more then ten to fifthteen words.

The structure of the message began to take shape within Torc’s mind. Three hundred panlings marching to Aveas. One to Two centaur to woodsman. And the last little bit would have to be something like; three’s day march southwest. But Torc needed to feel how far the aether was and what direction Aveas was to edit the last part. Torc wanted to be more precise but couldn’t think of a better wording of the last part.

Torc knew also what kind of shield to wrap it in. Gear shields were popular in the mouth, structurally it looked like a ball of moving gears, but the shield was actually moving strands of aether that if loose weave strands were caught between the teeth of the gears they were destroyed. The message would still be treated suspect, but hopefully it wouldn’t be deconstructed based on suspicion.

Besides Torc was going to have the shield message lightly brush the warning wards. The mages would take attention but wouldn’t destroy it unless it presented a threat. Brushing the wards around the city would make some mages pay attention to the shielded message, but doing nothing more than that would hopefully allow them time to hear the message.
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Post by Grant »

There were a number of surprises awaiting Torc just beyond the physical world. First, he found Aveas to be far closer than he had expected, as the crow flies...and while travel through the island was slow and laborious as was maneuvering in the dense foliage, distances weren't too great. He could no doubt reach Aveas by foot in at the most a day.

The next great surprise was the Aether itself. Once attuned, he found the Aether to be tempestuous and turbulent...a rolling storm of energy and darkness that defied his attempts at control and utilization. Given some time, Torc managed to touch them, but something...something either here in the Tether or beyond in the Aether...was inhibiting his abilities. To make matters worse, he couldn't know if his message could breach the Captain's defenses...and he couldn't be certain that the Captain would even hear.

Then came the sentry. It was this that interrupted Torc's attempts to unravel the mystery around him as the soldier took a considerable risk to place his hand upon the sorcerer apprentice's shoulder. "Sentries! We need to move..."

The sentries were centaurs...and they were astonishingly efficient sentries. Half man and half horse, they were well over a thousand pounds of charging, destructive mass that could move with some ease and speed through the forest (unlike any horse Torc had ever known). In addition, they were very cunning in the woods, native tribes of people that lived and died by their ability to track, forage, hunt and trap.

"Torc, we have no time! We must withdraw...or they might pick up on our trail..." motioned Zeke, indicating the approaching pair of centaur patrolling the area. Their path would bring them very close to the trio, possibly too close to hope for evasion.
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Post by Torc Blackfoot »

Torc had thought that they had moved far enough away when he had viewed the Aether, but fate seemed to have a different idea. Sometimes no matter what Torc’s intentions were, the One decided to show him the awful truth that Torc was still simply just a man. So instead of complaining to his God about the unfairness of life and fate, Torc simply yet go of his focus on the Aether and motioned angrily for Zeke to lead the way.

Torc put all his effort into stealth as the moved. Hopefully his meager training before he became a mage, and what he had learned from Zeke would help as well. Of course, if this day was any indication on what would pass for his fortune… he might as well undress and wave his prick at the centaurs and hope they passed out from feeling so small.

Torc thought a moment about what he would say to his God when he finally did meet him. You know something Dominicus. What I have done with my position in the great wheel of your design is the very best I know how, but every now and again I wouldn’t have minded a little help. I go to war, to help your cause, and in the end I was about as worthless as any farmer. I can’t send a message to my people because of some kind of great aetheral disturbance. My mission was clearly to find the Enemy’s encampment, yet that was given to me, by some captain that felt a mage was a scout. I try to become a mage at a good guild, and my ex-master has a demon roaming in his head, who by the way can jump in my body if I don’t go to this forsaken place. Oh and one more thing, if you bloody feel like it maybe I should just cut a fart, and save you the trouble of finding some stick to put under my foot!

Alright so complaining to the One did feel a little better. Maybe the great and almighty prick would get off his ass and help for a change. Of course, Torc knew from previous priest, The One loves a man who can stand before his obstacles and develop the good within himself. Torc had felt it was a line so that priests didn’t have to hear complaining during dry years. Personally Torc felt that if the One decided to constantly test his followers then perhaps he should reward them every once and a while, instead of constantly passing judgment.

So in the spirit of a good Oneist, Torc centered his thoughts and moved with Zeke to the best of his ability, with the single hope of not being found.
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Post by Grant »

Having lived for generations in their thick, virtually untouched wilderness, the centaur tribes were very good at moving through the dense woodland that predominated Pan's Isle. While cavalry might do very poorly in the woods, the centaurs did rather well, shifting and picking through the brush as well as any thousand pound beast might. In addition to this, they could spot tracks, set traps, and chase down game as well as anything...and with their latent aetheric qualities, they were more than capable of defending the island from virtually any threat in times past.

But times had a habit of changing...and the Western Settlers had brought with them new ideas and innovations that would give great harm to the centaur people. Curiously, the most pivotal of these innovations came not in the air frigates, arcballistae, or machinery of World's Mouth...but with something as simple as a caltrop. A simple, tetrahedral design of four sharp spikes that, when cast upon the ground, would leave one sharpened, iron blade poking upwards perhaps as much as six inches. A minor footnote in history, the device would no doubt never be mentioned in soldier's stories about the battle for Pan's Isle...but it was these humble devices that nullified the centaur threat for the Western colonists, and the centaur tribes quickly learned to loathe and fear the sight of numerous caltrops scattered over the hard, packed earth around Aveas and in some clearings beyond.

Because of this, the colony of Aveas found itself in a stalemate. The centaurs dominated the woodlands...but the colonist territories were virtually impervious to centaur assault, as the tribes could not move over them with any speed...and their crafted, hooked bows were no match for the range and power of the Western Arcballistae.

Torc hadn't seen many centaurs since his arrival in Pan's Isle. He couldn't see one now...but he could tell from Zeke's behavior that they were very close, actively searching for scouts and skirmishers in the thick woods Northeast of Aveas. For a period of perhaps six marks, the centaurs found and tracked Torc and Zeke through the woods, capable enough to catch sight of the tracks left and numerous enough to spread out when the tracks became too difficult. Still, Torc and his colleagues managed to keep their distance...and in the middle of the night, well before the sun rose to begin Samheen 29th, Zeke announced that they had given their pursuers the slip. His evaluation was quickly reinforced by Torc's comfortable awareness that the Aether Disturbances had disappeared with them, leaving him with certain control once again.

In addition to evading the patrols, they found themselves perhaps less than two tides from Aveas, having moved to the Southwest during their flight. The Panling army...such as it was...did not appear to be on the move, at least at any great speed. While the centaurs worked furiously to cover and conceal the army's movements, Torc knew full well that the army would not arrive at Aveas for another day...arriving no sooner than Tradetide of the 30th. They might have moved faster if they chose to do so....but for some reason, the mixed, irregular Imperial army moved with deliberate lethargy and caution.

"Sirrah, I think we should head back to Aveas and report," offered Zeke as he offered Torc a strip of dried beef to go along with a large chunk of hard and bland bread. "We've been out for some time, and I'm curious how things are shaping up...and whether they know about this army. We could be back to Aveas before dinner, I think," predicted Zeke, demonstrating a soldier's uncanny ability to measure time with his stomach.
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Post by Torc Blackfoot »

Torc had sweated and humped his way out of the forest. The foreign wilderness, with its exotic smells, juxtaposition wildlife, and ambience of hostility put Torc on the forged edge. It wasn’t the forest he grew up in, beings of mythos in the Western Kingdom were alive here and they were not Torc friends. They were ugly half horse men that meant death to many of the soldiers. Some deserved death, for some had come here only to commit the ugly crimes that in the civilized world would have made them swing from a branch. Yet many didn’t, for quite a few like Zeke, they had been brought here to fight a war due to their pointy ears. Some believed in the goodness of order and the might of the faith, and they didn’t truly deserve to die.

So it wasn’t just being found out that had led them to Aveas. It would have been Torc’s duty to come here and report the approaching army. He had hoped to send of missive, but a hope didn’t mean certainity, and in a way it was easier having the choice made for them. Torc needed to report, he needed to make sure that the battalions still left at the city was strong enough to support the wall. The information about the centaurs and how they disrupted aetheral senses and weaves, yet the true fear about them was their speed.

If the mages could be organized and the fields around the city were pockmarked with small holes about half a foot deep and no more then a fist wide. The centaurs speed would be neglected, for if the centaurs charged the walls, some would break their legs just like any horse, and with arrows and bolts being fired down upon them they would not be looking to closely to the ground. The battle commanders could devise pathways within the fields to make sure counter attacks would succeed.

If only one air flotilla was still in the city, barrels of caltrops could be thrown from the sky. Not to mention it could attack like a floating tower housing the better crossbowmen and ammunition for their deadly weapons.

“Aye, Zeke lets move double time, we need to report and either fall in with the organized defenders, or report and make sure the commanders get all the help they can.”

Torc would make his report, and if no action was already being taken he was going to make sure that some of the scouts and mages were out preparing the fields to slow down the charge of the enemy. Of course, he needed to make sure that the commanders agreed and gave him the strategic locations, but it was a good idea and it would show them all that Torc was a leader amongst the mages, and that was how he hoped to spend the next few days.

OOC: This should cover it.
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Post by Maeve »

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