Marovan steps beyond the stone line, lifting a cracked silver relic toward the staggered orcs. Its dull surface catches the red light, and the shrine stones answer with a low murmur.
An armored orc herald, a man with slate-gray skin, a flattened nose, and a broken lower tusk, advances beneath a raised white standard. Broad-shouldered and middle-aged, he wears dark iron plates, a tusked helm, and a strip of white cloth tied around one gauntlet.
The Armored Orc Herald
Withdraw from the shrine and lower your weapons. The settlement will be spared, and no further blood need stain this road.
The villagers tighten their grips but hold their line. Behind the herald, the wounded orc raiders remain below the shelf, watching the white standard and waiting for an answer.
The Charlatan Priest
No. This shrine is not yours to bargain over, and its relic will not be surrendered to oath-breakers. Stand firm, Hevelseld.
Marovan's refusal rings across the shelf, sharper than the wind. The villagers look from his raised relic to Hevelseld, their formation steady but their faces asking who will decide.
The Charlatan Priest
Hevelseld, answer him now. If you mean to hold this ground, say so before the settlement's fate is sealed by silence.
“Orc I don't think your in a position to negotiate your numbers are few and you are weak I don't think its wise to lose the high ground now.”
SUCCESS (Superb Willpower, rolled +0)
Hevelseld
Orc, you are in no position to negotiate. Your numbers are few, you are weak, and surrendering this high ground would be folly.
Hevelseld's words carry across the shelf without a tremor. The villagers straighten behind their spears, while the orcs below glance toward their scattered wounded and broken ascent.
The Armored Orc Herald
You mistake restraint for weakness, human. But you have the height, and my warriors cannot take it without needless cost.
The herald lowers his white standard a handspan. His escort watches him in silence, and the larger raiding line begins drawing back from the shelf's base.
The Armored Orc Herald
We withdraw from the shrine for now. Keep your weapons raised if you must, but do not mistake this retreat for surrender.
Villagers
They are falling back! The ground is ours. Hold the line and watch them go!
The Charlatan Priest
Well answered, Hevelseld. The offer is broken, and the shrine remains in our keeping.
“Hevelseld watches as the orcs leave till they are out of sight and gives orders to leave the high gorund”
SUCCESS (Good Perception, rolled +1)
Hevelseld watches the armored orc herald lead the retreat down the scarred slope. The scattered raiders follow, shrinking into the smoke until white standard and dark armor vanish beyond the road.
He keeps his gaze fixed on the lower road, marking the last movement among the stones. No orc remains visible, and the wind carries only distant footfalls fading toward the settlements.
The villagers remain poised along the shelf, spears angled outward and bows lowered but ready. The charlatan priest lets the silver relic sink against his crimson robes.
Hevelseld
The orcs are out of sight. Lower your weapons and descend from the high ground in order.
The villagers obey at once. Archers rise from their knees, spears turn inward, and the rough line breaks into a careful descent over the loose stones.
Villagers
Down carefully. Keep together, and leave no one behind.
The charlatan priest follows after them, glancing once toward the sealed pass before stepping from the shelf. The defenders reach the road below with the shrine still behind them.
✓ Quest Accepted
Win the villagers' trust in Hevelseld's command
“Alright lets head back someone though should keep watch over to make sure they don't come back. I am willing to do this unless anyone else wishes to .”
SUCCESS (Good Perception, rolled +0)
Hevelseld
We should head back, but someone ought to keep watch over the road to make certain they do not return. I am willing, unless anyone else wishes to.
The Charlatan Priest
I will return with the villagers and see that the wounded are sheltered. Keep watch from the shrine, Hevelseld, where the road lies open before you.
The villagers begin the careful walk toward the burning settlements, carrying their weapons low but ready. Marovan pauses beside the shrine, then follows them, leaving Hevelseld above the scarred road.
Hevelseld takes position near the broken stones and watches the retreat route until smoke thins across the slope. He catches no returning movement, only distant figures vanishing between the settlements.
Hevelseld
The road is clear, but the smoke keeps hiding its far end.
The watch confirms the orcs do not come back. It costs him time: by the time he leaves the shrine, the villagers are already farther down the road, and their voices have faded.
“I will head back and once I cathc up there's a few questions I need to ask. So Hevelseld begins solwly at first to move back then speeds up hoping to get closer.”
FAILURE (Fair Athletics, rolled +0)
Hevelseld starts down the road at a measured pace, then lengthens his stride when the villagers’ figures draw nearer through the thinning smoke. The distance closes, but slowly.
Hevelseld
Their voices are close enough to hear, but not close enough to question them yet.
Hevelseld pushes harder, boots striking the road in a steady rhythm. The villagers reach the settlement’s outer houses before he can overtake them, their weapons and bundled supplies disappearing between smoke-darkened walls.
Villagers
Bring the wounded to the meeting hall. The rest of us can speak there once everyone is accounted for.
Hevelseld reaches the first houses moments later, but the last villagers have already passed from sight. Their voices lead toward the meeting hall, while the road behind him lies empty.
The chase has failed to bring him alongside them, yet their chosen shelter gives him a clear place to find the defenders and put his questions to them without searching the road.
“He continues til he reaches the spot”
Hevelseld follows the villagers’ voices between smoke-darkened houses. The settlement’s meeting hall stands ahead, its broad doors thrown open as people carry the wounded inside.
He reaches the hall without delay. Villagers fill the entry and spill across the packed-earth yard, arranging the injured beneath awnings while others sort weapons and gathered supplies.
Villagers
The commander has arrived. Make room, and bring him inside so he can hear the count.
The defenders part around him. Inside, the hall smells of ash, sweat, and steeped herbs; wounded villagers rest along the walls while able-bodied survivors gather near the central table.
Villagers
Seven stood on the shelf, and seven came back. Two are hurt badly, but none was left on the road.
Their report settles into the hall’s tense quiet. Through the open doorway, the road remains visible between the houses, and no movement breaks the thinning smoke.
“Thanks all stood there and fought on. I have just need to ask a couple things first how numerous are the orcs in these parts? and where are their major settlements if we know where they are?”
SUCCESS (Superb Willpower, rolled +0)
Hevelseld
Thank you. All who stood there fought bravely. I need two answers: how numerous are the orcs in these parts, and where are their major settlements, if we know?
The villagers exchange weary looks. One defender sets aside a bundle of arrows, while another leans over the central table and traces the surrounding valleys in spilled ash.
Villagers
The raiding bands here may number thirty or forty, perhaps more beyond the hills. They gather from several clans, so no honest count lasts long.
A gray-haired villager turns the table’s map toward Hevelseld and marks the eastern ridges with a charcoal stub. The others crowd close, listening to the account.
Villagers
Their largest known settlement lies east, beyond the Blackthorn Vale, in the basalt hills. Smaller camps follow the river north, but the basalt hold is where supplies and warriors gather.
The charcoal marks leave Hevelseld with a clear account: scattered raiders nearby, a major orc settlement east beyond Blackthorn Vale, and lesser camps along the northern river.
Quest Complete
Win the villagers' trust in Hevelseld's command
Attribute Upgrade: Perception Good→Great
“Just one more thing do we have more wepaons incase of another attack? if not do we have one who can make more. If we do we should make some more in preperation of an attack if it comes agian. Perhaps not immediately but it should happen sometime over the next few days.”
SUCCESS (Great Reasoning, rolled -1)
Hevelseld
One more thing. Do we have weapons in reserve, and someone who can make more? If another attack comes, we should prepare over the next few days.
The villagers turn from the ash-marked map toward their scattered bundles. Several begin counting aloud, while a broad-shouldered older man, with iron-gray hair, a lined face, and a soot-darkened brown work apron over a faded green tunic, moves toward a curtained alcove at the hall’s rear.
Villagers
Not enough for another fight. We have two sound spears, one usable bow, and working knives. The rest are damaged or already in hands.
Tovin
I am Tovin. I mend tools and weapons when iron allows it. I can turn out spearheads and repair bows, but our forge has a cracked hearth.
Tovin draws back the curtain, revealing a cramped workroom with a cold forge, split bellows, and a small bin of sorted scrap. The village can begin repairs, but not a large new armory.
Villagers
We can gather the broken iron today and bring fuel from the north shed. By tomorrow, Tovin could start repairs, though no one has counted every damaged piece yet.
The answer gives the defenders a workable preparation: immediate repairs and new spearheads are possible, but the precise inventory will consume the rest of the day and remains uncertain until the bundles are opened.
✓ Quest Accepted
Count the village's reserve weapons
“Tovin you know your tools and items best you should help direct the affairs and what can I do in particular to help the endeavor?”
FAILURE (Great Reasoning, rolled -3)
Hevelseld
Tovin, you know your tools and supplies best. Help direct this work, and tell me what I can do to aid it.
Tovin
Then take the inventory while I judge what can be repaired. Separate spear shafts, heads, bows, and knives, and mark each bundle clearly.
Tovin points to the scattered stores, but his order collapses when the villagers open several bundles at once. Broken tools, household blades, and old weapons lie mixed together without any household marks.
Villagers
Those spearheads belong to our families. The knives are needed for food, and no one agreed to surrender them for the hall's reserve.
The sorting stops. Tovin cannot identify ownership from the piles, and the defenders begin reclaiming items before he can judge their condition. The promised inventory becomes a dispute over what the village may spare.
Tovin
I can repair what reaches my bench, commander, but I cannot decide whose tools are taken. Without a settled reserve, my work will keep breaking apart.
Tovin closes the nearest bundle and leaves the choice before Hevelseld. The repair effort now waits on a clear division between household necessities and weapons assigned to common defense.
“Villagers it is true teh knives are needed to help prepare food so I grant you that. But the spears are weapons built for war and we are in a warzone and our collective interest should be to use these spears for our common defense. We can still note whcih belongs to whom but they are still needed so lets not destroy ourselves over family heirlooms when afar greater threat pervades against us.”
SUCCESS (Superb Willpower, rolled +0)
Hevelseld
You are right that the knives are needed for food, and I grant them to your households. But spears are weapons made for war, and we are in a warzone. Our common defense must come first. Record which family owns each spear, but place them in the reserve. Do not let family heirlooms divide us while a greater threat surrounds these homes.
His words settle over the hall without shouting. The villagers glance toward the mixed bundles, then toward the open doors and the smoke beyond them, weighing private claims against the danger outside.
Villagers
The knives stay with our kitchens, then. As for the spears, mark every owner and return them when the danger passes. We will place them under the hall's keeping.
One by one, the villagers lift their spears from the scattered piles and carry them to the central table. Tovin watches the transfer, his stern expression easing as the reserve takes shape.
Tovin
That gives me a proper starting stock. I will record each owner beside the weapon, then separate sound shafts and heads from what needs repair.
The dispute breaks into work. Names are called, spear bundles receive marks, and the knives return to household baskets while Tovin begins his inspection at the cleared bench.