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(Earthdawn: Persephone's Diadem) Ch II, Righetous Again (T2)

During the weeks that the men spent drilling and Yaiil uncovered the arts of elemental magic, dreaming of learning to fly, Onessa found bows in the armory and set to recovering skills half forgotten in her time as a concubine. Rarely a day would go by when Yaiil's second couldn't be seen on the archery range after drills, mother of pearl skin shimmering in the setting sun, black cherry hair rustling in the evening wind. She'd taken to wearing a revealing but sturdy and protective outfit consisting of a hardened leather bodice and whalebone corset with supple buckskin trousers and jacket, stained a color complimentary to her exotic flesh and hair.

She worked with crossbow, short bow, and longbow during these training sessions, reawakening her magic, renewing her commitment to her chosen discipline. Periodically throughout her training, Onessa would fire fifteen arrows from the longbow. At first, she needed to get a man's help to string the shaft. The strain of the heavy stave would leave her shaking and sweating.

Day by day, week by week, she grew stronger, 'til—by the time the four girls left for their first mission—she could fire the bow with the same smooth ease as the smaller projectiles and even—wtih some strain—string it herself.
 
Three sturdy and spirited mares bore the three elf girls along the river road and through the mountains for several weeks, allowing them to continue their training on a relatively uneventful journey. Believing themselves a few days from the remote mountain estate over the Caer, the girls clip clopped single file along a rising ravine.

The company marched behind them in a sort of sequence form shortest to tallest. Dwearves on point, still coarse and foul, but rendered straight backed and proud by their new found purpose and disciplein. The dozen orcs marchign two by two behind them triply so. Behind them, came the camp flollowers--each mercinary had chosen one girl to acompany them on the battle, tending primarily to the domestic affairs of base camp, but the newly freed--if still usualy quite submisive--girls were starting tos how intrest in the skills they might use to defend that camp. Though most of them made a public show of admiration for thier master's fighting prowess and a desire to be strong for them, Yaiil quite often noted that the girls were throwig admirrng looks that bordered on infatuation.

The last rank consisted of the teams four remaning trolls, both gaurding the rear, and ready to strike ahead of them with great crossbows they sometimes refered to as Siege Arbalasts--or simply, Troll Balista.
 
As the ravine road split into three directions--looking strangely like a forking bolt of lightnign, Yaiil took note of large footprints in soft earth--nearly troll sized boots of hard boiled leather with steal toes.
 
Immediately her right hand went up, indicating for her band to come to a halt as she herself reigned in her steed. Those tracks were an unexpected sight, as supposedly the Caer they were approaching was in a remote area, long forgotten by civilization. Was this just a chance trespasser, or part of the competition they had been warned about.

Slowly but gracefully the slender elf slif out of her saddle and down on the ground, kneeling down next to the footprints and inspecting them more closely. Was this just a single individual? How long since it has passed along?
 
It was hard to get a solid count, as these large men seemed to be moving back and forth between the central fork and the left several times a day--sometimes with shod mules--but it looked like there were at the very least three--more like seven.
 
Yaiil rose back to her feet, still in thought trying to process what she just had learned. "These are the tracks of some locals ..." she explained, mostly to Wynne and Onessa right next to her. "About half a dozen of them, maybe more. And tall, taller than a human.

We need to find out more about them. Where exactly they live, what they know of the Caer if anything, what their stance is. And we probably should not show up in full force unless we want a confrontation."

Looking up to her two elven companions she finished "I think the company should head back a mile or so and set up camp while the three of us proceed to scout out these natives. Or would you suggest otherwise?" The last was clearly an honest question.
 
Onessa pondered the idea, a little nervous, but Wynne smiled. "We won't make any friends by marching the army right in. We three might not be able to handle 12 giants alone, but we can surely handle them long enouhg to get away. I think it's a good idea."

Onessa pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, let's do it that way."
 
"I don't think those are giants ..." Yaiil chimed in "Their footprints are smaller than those of our trolls. So there's that at least."

Only, which way to go? The tracks seemed to peruse the left and the middle path with the same frequency. A bit of pondering, and then the elven warrior decided. "We'll start with the left path. And I think we are better off on foot. Easier to hide, and easier to cross difficult terrain ..."
 
Immediately her hand came up again, signalling her two companions to halt their steps for the moment.

"Up there to the right ..." she whispered barely audible while pointing in the direction "... I heard something. Can you hear it, too?"
 
The two girls cocked thier heads, almost bright and dark mirrors of each other. Onessa nodded and replied softly, "It's coming out from underground."

Wynne nodded in agreement. "It's a mine of some sort."
 
"Let's have a closer look then. But without making too much noise."

And indeed Yaiil began to approach the estimated origin of the noices she heard, now deliberately placing every step she made, body in a slight crouch and all senses at full attention.
 
Another few hundred feet hugging the side of the wall and moving with soft grace, the girls came to a ridge rising up the side of the cliff that had been worked into a ramp.

Two big men were talking to each toher quietly as they sat wtih their legs dangling over the edge of the cliff, passing a wineskin back and forth as they casualy kept watch over the edge.

They didn't seem to notice the three girls. They were broad, like dwarves, but with orcish features, and looked to be nearly as tall as a troll.
 
"I guess we found them ..." Yaiil whispered to her two companions as she shrank back behind a bush.

"So what next? Continue to watch them from hiding, or approach them openly?" The only one of them who needed hard to hide equipment to perform her discipline was Onessa, so they could put up a harmless appearance without being actually defenseless.
 
"Let's watch for a little bit," Wynne replied softly. "see if we can overhere what they're saying..."


After a moment of paying close attention Yaiil did manage to catch a bit. One man was pleased with a new vien of silver they'd found, sugesting they might trade some for wine and women.

The second comented that the True Earth that Vigo was slowly drawing out was even more valuable, but they needed to stay on watch in case someone showed up to steal it.

The first sugested that if someone tried to steal the true earth, they might have wine and women. As they passed a second wine skin back and forth, they were getting louder and more energetic, but also a bit more distracted.
 
"Hmm..." Yaiil mused in a hushed tone. "... apparently they are only here for mining. So if we quietly march our way there may not be any contact. They will of course notice our tracks.

Or we could make our presence known right now. And maybe demand some tribute?" The last part was presented with a wide grin indicating she was not entirely serious.
 
The two girls looked at her, Wynne's eyes going a little wide. Onessa almost imediatly giggled, and after a moment Wynne followed suite.

"Honestly," Wynne offered, "Those are ogres. I wouldnt exactly expect them to leave us in peace, or even do honorable buiness iwth us if we weren't strong enough to put the fear of the Passions in them. If we want proof, we could negotaite safe passage and see if they deal with us honorably or try and grab us whie we parley?"

Now that Yaiil thought about it, they certianly did match what she knew of ogres. While ogres aren't exactly rampaging Horros, she's never realy heard anythign good about them either. Ogres were more than happy to prey on passers buy, sometimes literaly. They would do buisness for silver and elementla earth, but the only time they're not known to betray the ones they dealt with was when they beleived their buisness associates were too powerful to cross.

And their leaders ten to have... two lives. She knew three diferent accounts of a powerful ogre regenerating so suddenly from the brink of death. Ognar described it from personal experience. "I cut the brute's arm so he couldn't hold his club, and Big Jaim drove his spear into the brute's side. The ogre started to fall off the spear. Then there was a little flash and the ogre was whole again and roaring mad. It was like he'd been replaced by a second ogre."
 
"Hmm, what you say coincides with what I know" Yail conveyed her own findings. "And if that is true then yes, maybe it is best if we put the fear into them so they will leave us - and our tracks - alone. That would imply we approach them openly, as you suggested, and see how they will react.

Objections?"
 
"All right girls, lets have a chat with some ogres ..."

Yaiil took one last deep breath, then straightened herself up and stepped out of her cover. Once her two companions had done the same she began to march towards the ridge leading up to the cave entrance at a steady pace, her expression impassive and her senses at full alert. She knew of the two at the entrance, but who knew what else laid in store for her?
 
Yaiil ponders this for a moment.

"I think you should just march at the back. If these two attack us immediately it won't make much of a difference, but if we are invited inside the cave you might become cut off from us if you hide now. Which reminds me ..."

Yaiil paused a moment, focussing the elemental energies of Air to surround her and dampen any blow directed her way.

Air Armor activated.
 
“Oh good idea,” Wynne chimed in, “Since you have that ready can you give it to us, too?”

The two ogres had finished their third—and last—bottle of wine by the time the girls came into view. They were singing a lewd drinking song in a language bastardized from Throalic and Or'zette, and they could catch enough bits and pieces to know most girls would blush—and not just the nice ones.

As they started up the hewn ramp, the two ogres blinked. Lecherous eyes ranked down their bodies, sensual beauty only magnified by the rustling of their hair and skirts. Then one of the ogres sang out, “Ho, there, girls. Come to join us for a drink?”
 
It had taken but a few moments to extend the magical protection to her companions, and so the three elf girls were a bit better prepared for an eventuality that hopefull would not happen.

"More like saying hello" the elven warrior retorted. "We had heard your singing from quite a distance and were wondering about the ... performers..."
 
One ogre grinned and hopped down to the ramp. He beckoned her to come closer. "I'm Bort, this is Gorm. We own a mine a little ways from here. Were just stopping for lunch. What are your names."

Bort offered a grin--which would have been friendlier if his teeth weren't so snaggled. "What are your names?"
 
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