KHAZUUL

"Ah. Sometimes life hardens a man. Don't blame your brother for that." Thorn notices the change in the girl and senses that she is not some poor country girl but rather a little more refined that that.

"Sadly no. I've led a hard life and most recently gained my freedom. I suppose that freedom counts as something to be cherished but with this incessant rain and chill, I sometimes think it would be better back .... no," he announces flatly, shaking his head. "No it wouldn't be better."

"Best day of his life was the day he fell in with us, weren’t it?" Cutwell jokes, trying to lighten the sorry air left by Thorn.

"Happy memories, is it?" the man asks, drumming his chin with his fingers.

"Campaign! Has to be! Not happy for some mind, but a lot happier than if I hadn’t been there! Some of the best days of my life, weren’t they?

Slogging through the muck with ten thousand other poor sods. Not a care in the world ninety nine days out of a hundred!"

Listening to the others as she eats, glad that Saffron's attention is now divided, Sow cuts of bit of old, hard cheese as she risks another glance at the other woman. Saffron's natural charm and ease of making conversation intimidates the girl with the broken voice, but she still musters courage to ask, "Where are you from, you and your brother?"

Freki drops the heavy owl-man head at Tunny's feet with a sigh of relief. Lugging that thing back to camp through the muck had taken all his energy.

"So what do you do with these things? Can we use them to make our Black Skulls?" he asks the Foreman, thinking the owl skull with its broken beak would make a pretty nice mask.

--

After washing the beastman's blood from his net and pack, he joins the rest of the party around the fire, bringing the extra beads that Tunny had given them. He passes around 7 beads each giving two shares to Saffron to keep for her brother who was already asleep recovering, leaving 3 extra. "Hey Cutwell, I think we'd all be happy if you buy another set of bandages when you get the chance in case we need your services again. Here's a start," he says tossing the extras to the surgeon.

Catching the last story, Freki joins in, "Happy memories, eh? My parent's dog was like an older brother to me growing up. We had some great adventures together. He was big enough I could even ride him when I was a kid ... but the big ones die young," he pauses for a moment to remember and then finishes, " ... He was a Good Ol' Boy. Which reminds me, I've got to tend the kennels before I pass out." He waves goodnight with his usual friendly, albeit exhausted, smile and then fades into the darkness beyond the fire.

Sow watches the girl go after gladly accepting more of the beads she complained about from Freki, then mutters to the others before also turning in, "Shaffa. War there, right? Makes sense to why they're here."

Thorn looks up, at the flash and then at the man standing before them.

"It is I. You are from Kir Sabal I think? It is a surprise to see you suddenly among us. A good surprise. I have not yet visited your home of course or I would have happily taken you up on your offer of accommodation."

"My mother spoke fondly of a monastery on the cliffs of Kir Sabal. I was but a little boy when we journeyed there. My uncle had entered the order before I was born. He had expressed a wish to meet me so my mother took me to see him. My uncle was well respected and the sages took a liking to me. They told my mother I showed promise but alas that path was never taken. I suppose there is still time...."

Thorn was tempted to hang his head in shame but fought the urge and instead, he simply smiled.

Cutwell looks to the others, and makes a face that suggests all of this is a foreign language to him. He’d marched about a bit, but never had the pleasure of politics. Cutting and cards were more his business.

"Whats a Rune Sage when it’s at home? Some kind of writing fella, is it?"

Sow shakes her head almost imperceptibly, not wanting to garner the notice of the Ruin Sage. Her voice is low, a strained whisper to the barber. "Some kind of mystic. Them who know the secrets of the ruins in the crater, I think."

Freki had returned from the kennels after learning the true names of the dogs and was trying not to get frustrated setting up his shelter in the windy weather ... Might be better to go back and spend the night sleeping with the dogs, he considers, something he's done plenty of times in the north.

When the Ruin Sage arrives, he's surprised to hear Thorn reveal that he is "touched." Freki turns to listen to the story as the Ruin Sage questions Thorn further.

Day 4, First Watch
Hex: 3
Wilderness Action: TBD...
Weather: Catastrophic

The weather gets progressively worse through the night. You barely are able to sleep with the wind ripping at your tents and the lightning crashing about you.

---

In the morning, you look into the sky and see that the clouds are spiraling. The wind is so strong that the palisade walls shake, and the grounds of the encampment are turning into a single, massive puddle of ankle-deep water and mud.

Tunny yells at everyone to collapse the canopies, gather their gear and the dogs, and head underground. The lizards can't fit, so he unties them to find shelter in their own manner. The prisoners he leaves to die.

Tunny opens a trap door in the floor of the supply lodge, one of the only permanent structures in the camp, which leads to an underground cellar of sorts. He offers to all Black Skulls to shelter down there for the duration of the storm, but he says to stay out of "the stash," various barrels of valuable plants such as the Black Lotus that have been picked during the week.

"You coming, or what?" Tunny calls out to your group.

"I thank you but no. I will remain with my compatriots for the time being."

Thorn was not ready for such an enormous undertaking and he felt a commitment to the group. They had faced foes together. Spilled blood. Brought back a prize or two. No, he could not, would not abandon them.

Sow manages to hold on to her tarp through the night and even catches some shut-eye. Her experience of sleeping in the wilderness under a range of conditions really shows.

"You’d think he’d have offered this to us through the night, wouldn’t you?" Cutwell says somewhat bitterly, before thinking better of it.

"Spose it’s not watertight…" he says, letting the implication of drowning settle on the others.