Prelude: a bad week

[Bitom]

It hasn't been a good week. The human village was supposed to be a simple mission. A small village with a bunch of half brained yokels were resisting the Warlord's rule. Broknar was sent with a dozen lesser warriors to pacify them. That's where things started bad.

Broknar remembers his anger at being told that he was not allowed to kill more than half of the village's men, because the food they grew was needed. It seems ridiculous now. The humans had found champions for themselves. One was a magic user, and that was bad. The fire he spread around sent many of the lesser warriors fleeing, and no small number of them dying. but the other three, the warriors. They were stronger and better than any human in the area should be. And they had the badge of Ivansgrad. Eventually, Broknar was forced to flee as well.

Then, last night, the sky fell. Nine flaming stars burned across the sky, and one collided with the mountain by Broknar. The sound made his ears bleed and his eyes did not work for hours afterward from the brightness off it.

Now, mostly recovered from that, Broknar has discovered that his bad week is not over. The pieces of the falling star have set the forest on fire, and the mountain seems the only place to flee.

OOC

This is Grim's Prelude

[Grimathor]

Humans, magic users, falling skies and now forest fires. Could anything else go wrong today? Someone or something was going to taste his steel and soon. He thinks to himself as he heads toward the mountains.

[Bitom]

The orc trudges west toward the mountains, noticing that one of them is significantly shorter than it wasthe day before. This must be where the falling star hit, and this is the mountain that the burning woods seem almost to be hording him towards.

[Grimathor]

His survival instinct over-rode the distinct feeling that he was indeed being herded by someone or something. Gripping his axe with both hands, Broknar continues toward the shorter mountain, coughing occasionally from the smoke of the burning forest.

[Bitom]

Eventually, Broknar reaches a point where he deems himself safe from the fire. He's above the tree line, and therefore above the fire. The smoke will get thick, but at least he won't burn. He's come about half-way from the foothills to the edge of the crater which marks the new top of the mountain. There, he finds a horse tied to one of the last remaining trees. Someone has been here before him.

[Grimathor]

Broknar stops dead in his tracks when spotting the horse. All thoughts of fires, smoke, falling stars, humans, magic users and all his other recent irritants are replaced with his warrior instincts. Raising his greataxe above his head, ready to swing at a moment notice Broknar cautiously heads toward the tethered mount.

Action

Assume Punishing Stance - +1d6 on damage on all attacks, -2 to AC

[Bitom]

The horse looks at the warrior stupidly, but there seems to be nothing else around it but rocks. It has no particular fear of the orc, as many animals do. This horse was likely trained by orcs.

[Grimathor]

Relaxing his guard some, but maintaining his readied weapon Broknar begins to look around for the owner of the tethered horse. Examining the horse to see if he sees any symbols he might recognize. Also looking at the quality of the beast's tack and what if anything it is carrying.

[Bitom]

Near the horse is a standard military saddle with saddlebags. It has no emblems on it, and no sign of its owner.

[Grimathor]

Finding the presence of the riderless horse and saddlebags odd, Broknar just chalks it up to another tick in his bad week. Lowering his weapon, Broknar looks around for a path or a cave opening.

Action

Dropping Punishing stance