Tasked with bringing the Neanderthal threat in hand by
Thunderbird, the eclectic group of heroes traveled on wings of lightning and
thunder to the great steppe landing in the shoulder-high grass a few miles
outside of a human village. There, they encountered a pack of gnolls sponsored
by local clans also in search of the Neanderthals.
After discussing the situation with the chief, a man whose face
had been painted black, the group learns that a force of Neanderthals have been
raiding all of the villages within a three day walk. His assumptions, backed up
by those of the gnoll-pack, point to the main contingent of the Neanderthal
force coming from North of the river. (For reference try: Ponca, NE.)
The troop stays the night in the village and sets out the next
morning to reconnoiter the area and find the source of the Neanderthal raiders.
After some searching the group meets, and swiftly defeats a small band of
warriors, and trails them back to their main camp. They are joined by a small
group of humans, led by a shaman and his opossum companion and a friendly, if
overly pungent, mastodon.
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| Business in the front, party on the back. |
Bedding down near the river, the group finds a pack of dogs eager
to take scraps from the camp. Reactions vary among the troop from friendly –
giving scraps – to hostile – scaring them away. The prevailing emotion is
apathy, however, and no coordinated effort was undertaken to encourage or
dismiss the beasts.
Come morning, a large stock of the group’s supplies is missing.
Perturbed by the theft, each clique within the troop accuses
another, but little comes of it when a cacophonous trumpet echoes across the
skies and into the souls of those in camp. Shocked, several of the warriors
flee, only finding their courage after several miles has been put between them
and the camp.
Come afternoon, the warriors have regrouped and are silently
stalking through the tall grass. Winding their way through the brush, they are
set upon by a pride of saber-toothed lions defending their kill. Most of the
group, high on the shoulders of Tanka the mammoth, cast magic and stones down
upon the heads of the beasts, but the fighters of the group take quick and
heavy casualties. One of the humans is quickly pounced upon and killed by the
giant cats, and the gnoll druid, Grey Bear, takes a grievous wound as he’s
raked by a lion’s claws but is saved by his own magic as his rent flesh knits
together like the deeps roots of an aspen tree.
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| Must be Tuesday. |
Melvi recognizes the magic of the Nunnehi and sees a masked figure
chatting with a lion. The lion runs off, and the man, at least what seems to be
a man, charges into the fray batting at the remaining lions with a set of
ornate clubs.
The pride is turned away, the mysterious stranger vanishes as
quickly as he appeared, and the troop moves on through the grass.
After an afternoon's march the troop comes across signs of the
camp. Several trails are found through the tall grass and smoke appears over
the tall fronds of green.
The group is surprised to come across a small band of neanderthal
warriors pulling a tether of human slaves behind them. A fight ensues and one
lone slope headed miscreant nearly escapes.
Pkoma, the pygmy hunter downs the fugitive just outside of the camp, but
too late. The corpse is swiftly found by the neanderthals and the alarm goes up
around the camp.
Exhausted from the day's ordeals, the group marches away from the
enemy encampment and makes plans to attack the following morning based on the
gnolls’ scouting reports.
After discussing with the slaves being brought to the camp, it
appears that this camp, a large force of over 100 warriors cannot be the only
such forward base spread out across the steppe.
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