Puc's PF Kingmaker IC

[puctheplayfull]

Several Days ago, you received the following charter at court in the city of Restov:

Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, has been granted the right of exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west and sixty miles south of Oleg's Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this 24th day of Talistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Aoleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonsacle Throne.

You have since traveled south many days towards the aforementioned Oleg's Trading Post. Moving along the South Rostland Road, you see your destination only a few more miles away. It appears to be a small fort, of which you approach the rear palisade. At each corner stands a watchtower at least twice the height of the walls, which themselves are likely 10 paces high. As you make your way along the dirt road towards your destination, you glance about you, looking at the strange group of traveling companions which have joined you.

OoC: As a first post, please describe your characters appearance (at least what the other characters have seen of it in the case of a disguise {and include relevant roles in this case please}) as well as your general personality and mood over the last few days of travel since leaving Restov.

[King Tius]

A young, excitable gnome rides beside you on a small pony that in another universe may have been called a Shetland Pony. Those of you who have gotten too near the dirty gray beast find that she is quite ornery and is prone to nipping anyone but her master. This less than pleasant disposition has earned her the name of Thistle.

Unlike his mean mount, the gnome alchemist who has joined up with your group may just be a little too friendly. His tousled deep blue hair and wide, inquisitive eyes give him a childlike appearance, despite being nearly 60. The little man introduced himself as Sprig Fizzlewiz, amateur apothecary and purveyor of pyrotechnics ("though my friends call me Twig! Or Goat. because I eat a lot and am dirty all the time. My friends aren't very good at rhyming."). Sprig wears a belt and bandoleer covered in small alchemical vials and a has a satchel slung about him full of small boxes and pouches. Most of his supplies he keeps strapped to Thistle, enabling him to leap off the pony and dash into the woods without being encumbered.

Over the course of the journey, you notice that Sprig is almost constantly tasting things. Passing a tree, he will stand precariously on Thistle's saddle to try and grab a few leaves to munch on. Often he will squirrel these leaves away in a pouch or pocket. When passing a stream, he will pull out his trusty mug and take a drink. Because he is always tasting and sampling unsavory things, Sprig is frequently running into the woods to answer Nature's call. Sometimes, particularly after he has concocted some new alchemical brew (while riding, no less), the little gnome will flip around in his saddle and start throwing up violently behind Thistle. While these actions were somewhat shocking at first, you are now thoroughly desensitized to it.

Other than proving to be, at best, a humorous travel companion or a downright nuisance, Sprig has proven himself to be quite the brew master. When the journey first began, he happily shared with you his latest brew, Frog Spit Stout. Though the name sounded quite unappetizing, the little gnome quickly proved his chops when you got incredibly drunk off of his surprisingly-alcoholic beer. Fortunately, the alchemist was quick to administer some Alchemist's Kindness in the morning, curing your hangovers and ever so slightly enduring you to the eccentric gnome.

[dr.cello]

Cenbryht, for his part, seems to be excited to explore, and is fond of telling stories--sometimes of his exploits, sometimes simply random stories from history. He is fairly gregarious, and seems to say the first thing that comes to mind--which can make his conversation a little hard to follow. All in all, he seems somewhat erratic, both in thought and temperament, though enormously well-meaning. Everything is an adventure and he seems mostly eager to take it all in.

He is content to walk, and seems to use his horse as a pack animal more than anything--though he tries to care for it, he seems altogether uncomfortable with it. He's prone to talking to his familiar, a cat named Irony, when he's otherwise by himself.

He is tall, thin, and fairly tan for an elf, with short, messy brown hair and brown eyes, and is sensibly dressed for just about anything--sturdy clothes made of wool (a material whose virtues he is happy to extol), a cloak, and leather boots that strike a balance between sturdiness and nimbleness. That said, his outfit seems to have been assembled haphazardly from any number of sources--the effect isn't garish, but it does make him look a bit odd.

Most of the trip will be spent telling stories if his companions allow it, and otherwise trying to talk to people, learn everything there is to know about them and their cultures, and generally making friends in his own erratic way.

[Archive]

The group's halfling claims to be an ordained paladin of Erastil...there are some doubts.

Sure he carries a lance and a heavy shield, but his chain shirt looks obviously scavanged from a battlefield. The armor obviously belonged to someone much bigger, and has just had the sleeves and torso cut short to keep it from dragging, and the neck hole is prevented from slipping over the shoulders with some leather stitching.

And yes, the halfling wears the holy symbol of Erastil proudly on his chest, rather than being the bright, silvery symbol you've come to expect from the stories, his is a cheap wooden symbol held on with a strap of leather.

While his campfire stories of growing up on the Rostland plains tell of him being honest, charitable, compassionate, and loyal even after it has come to bite him on the arse. (literally three of his stories involved getting bitten there, by a fox, pony, and even weirder, a rabbit). They also paint him as a jokester, not overly religious, and of common birth, three qualities one doesn't often expect in holy knights.

And while he introduced himself as Lucky (http://www.dndsheets.net/view.php?id=14407), it had to be given to him ironically. In the short time you've known him he's fallen off his horse, tripped on his own feet, gotten his foot stuck in deep mud, and has yet to hit a single bird, rabbit, or other small game with his sling. Folklore claims that halflings are suppose to bring good fortune, but this one might be defective. Still, campsite accidents are noticibly down since he joined...

Lucky is a halfling of average height and weight, with blue eyes and brownish-blonde hair. He carries on his person a small arsenal of weapons, as well as some adventuring gear strapped to his person. He spends most of his time on his white pony, Sterling.

[Zealumieo]

Guiding along a mule she affectionately referred to as Nutmeg, a half-elf strides with a grace reflective of her previous lifestyle. Talindra stood taller then her average height would imply, her paler skin signalling a life under shade. All of her clothes seemed young, without harsh blemish or tear from use. From bottom up, she wore leather boots, dyed leather Breeches, a belt with inlay metalwork, a clean shirt tucked behind a set of sturdy scalemail (fitted well enough to her form), and a light cloak. Both braided and waved golden hair fell down past her to her shoulders. Talindra's most prominent trait, her deep eyes, contemplated on her surrounding as if searching for an element one couldn't naturally come across.

The Half-Elf reserved herself, not speaking unless spoken to. When asked of where she hailed, Talindra answered honestly, but held back her position and providing her father's own surname. Offhandedly, she explained in light detail of being a daughter of a prominent merchant. If one was listening attentively, Talindra seemed to stagger on personal details on her own father- as if filling in small gaps in her life. To her, there was a point to withholding such facts until the situation was appropriate. Whether the other nobles she recognized actually blew the whistle on her was their own prerogative.

Just as simply as her origins were asked for, she deflected to different subjects moving onto how Nutmeg was borrowed from one of her friends or a surprisingly in depth conversation about taxation or migrations when she wished to cut off the conversation. The group seemed too vibrant to have anyone willing to waste their time on dry facts and numbers. Or course just excusing herself politely was another way for her to be left alone, especially for those without enough tact to realize she was giving off signals to drop the conversation.

As short as her conversations had been, Talindra's attentiveness to her conversation partner was far more intense then the what casual nature of the subjects spoken about implied. The fierce emerald of her eyes actually focused intently on your face... giving off a feeling that you were the only person in the area that she was thinking about. The Half-elf refused to share rumor or other trifling details about the others in the group she'd previously spoken to- almost as if she were implying such actions were beneath her.

'Processions and Caravans... Always that. Feels refreshing to be on foot for once.' Her mind took mental pictures, noting the colors, natural landmarks, and clothing styles of the areas she passed.

[Selinia]

Despite being the youngest member of the expedition, the noble girl from the mountains had been remarkably mature. Sometimes irritatingly so. She diligently suited up in her heavy armor each morning (often badgering others to do the same, gearing up even on stretches of road that hadn't seen bandits in years). Likewise, she would quietly volunteer for the arduous middle watches to ensure the magic-users of the group got their sleep, but would invariably refuse to let anyone sleep until a proper schedule for the night was set. If anyone were to doze off and be caught, they could expect an indignant fist and (sometimes comically, depending on how sleepy the respective parties were) indignant speech about properly attending one's duties.

Against any sort of pressure, Neila would refuse alcoholic drinks of any sort, though she wouldn't intervene in celebration so long as the assigned watch for that night stayed sober enough to do their job. If asked, she would give the simple reply of "Dwarves.", and a general refusal to elaborate. And honestly, she was generally belligerent enough sober that getting the girl drunk was unlikely to be high one anyone's list of priorities. Despite her small stature, getting punched by Neila hurt.

She didn't have a mount, though she could fairly obviously afford one. The relative wealth of House Garess was rather well-known, and the girl didn't really make any effort to disguise that she had spare coin (though she did not flaunt it either - she simply treated it as fact). If asked, Neila would simply state that she didn't like horses, and that carrying a few supplies wasn't going to kill anybody.

While hardly mute, Neila simply didn't talk much socially. She was fine with giving commands, suggestions, and polite requests in a firm tone... but she just didn't seem inclined to open up to anyone. She would respond, usually pretty directly, to any questions, but would never volunteer personal information of her own accord. Neila would eat her meals quietly, never joining in on discussions or storytelling, though she often listened attentively.

Despite her claim that she was seventeen - and therefore of age - her appearance might lead one to quietly (or if one is unwise, loudly) question the truthfulness of that claim. Neila is small in stature, and remarkably slight in build considering her physical strength. Worse, her large, red-brown eyes, pale skin, and rather soft features give her a girlish look that would be better described as 'cute' than 'beautiful' (her tendency to tie her short mop of hair back in pigtails for convenience doesn't help the issue either). Anyone to comment on it will quickly find that her childish appearance is a sore spot with Neila, who struggles so hard to be taken seriously - and one of the quickest ways to earn her ire.

Neila's equipment was simple in design, but well-made, and obviously fitted especially for her. The angles and heavier-than-usual plating spoke of dwarven aesthetic, as did her preference of weapon - a heavy, long-bladed battleaxe for which she cared with great diligence. Those able to read dwarven would find the runes on its siding to speak of well-wishes and good fortune in battle. And perhaps proving the old saying that a noble never really leaves their home behind, Neila refused to let the fact that they were in the middle of the gods-forsaken wilderness keep her from bathing regularly and always pitching her tent, no matter how late they made camp.

As the group approaches the designated trading post, the serious young woman could be found splitting attention between the fort ahead and re-reading the group's charter (something she had insisted - quite firmly - on hanging onto personally) for the umpteenth time. Still, though her expression was neutral as always, there was a glimmer of genuine excitement in her eyes at the prospect of the beginning of a proper adventure.

[Khantin]

Ilbin 'Wildeye' Irstwil is just about the ugliest half elf you have ever laid eyes on. Most offspring between humans and elves have delicate features, grace and a sort of lithe quickness, Wildeye had none of these. But he did make up for the lack of these things in other areas, and in spades.

His visage is coarse and unfinished as if a stone mason was making a bust and just stopped before using his fine tooth chisels, and he has a tangled, full beard that he used to hide his face. However, it is his eyes that are the most disturbing thing about his face. One green, the other black, and they never quite agreed on what they were looking at. Most people felt like he either was not paying attention to them when they spoke or he stares at them for no reason, this tended to cause quite a few tense social situations.

He is tall for a half elf, and nearly as stocky as a dwarf. His lack of grace is made up for in brute strength, and his quickness is replaced by raw clumsy speed. And though his eyes seem like the unwieldy sort, they never missed much.

He has worn and dirty traveling clothes but nice sturdy boots; he wears a chain shirt like a second skin and never removes it, even to sleep. A deflated looking backpack and a full quiver of arrows are slung across his back, and a great axe at his side. A long bow stave always in his hands and a string in his pocket as he travels on foot through the wilderness.

He is quiet and almost tense as you begin your journey, his expression stern and concerned, but slowly loosens up as you leave Restov proper and enter the Greenbelt. With Oleg's trading post coming into view and a vista of the untamed Greenbelt spread out behind it, a smile finally cracks his face and he exhales.

"Home at last."

[arkol]

The second youngest of the group, Nash is a human boy with a good heart.

The first time you laid eyes on him he looked like he had walked half the world to get to Rostland (and he probably did). His clothes were so filthy and tattered that you could barely see the colors. Nowadays they're not much better, just cleaner.
The dark green cloak he wears however is on a relatively good condition which helps to hide the poor condition of the rest of his clothing. He almost always uses the hood up hiding his reddish brown hair. His green eyes have the particularity of glowing a strange purple hue when the light is just right, but none of you as probably noticed the fact.

Despite being a couple years older than Neila he does seem young, if not in the physical looks at least in maturity. He has a certain degree of "naieveness" in him.

He his however very respectful of the other members of the charter considering the others his superiors due to age (except Neila who's bossy attitude annoys him a little, but he keeps such thoughts to himself). He always takes the others suggestions or advices as orders and carries them almost immediately such as start gathering wood as soon as someone suggests making camp.

He is (or at least he tries) to be a gentleman, helping the ladies off their horses, holdings the doors of whatever inns they happen to pass by and such.

He his however a little sad, and even the strange and funny stories of Sprig and Cenbryht (or as he refers to them Mr. Fizzlewiz and Sir (for lack of a surname)) only manage to occasionally get a smile from him (but never a laughter)

He keeps to himself mostly, unless the conversation is about what the future holds for them in the Greenbelt. Whenever things get on the personal side he quickly finds something to do or suddenly hears a strange sound or a suspicious movement in the bushes, usually followed by a "I should take point" which he does often even when not needed.

When traveling side-by-side with someone else he prefers the quiet company of Talindra whom he has kindly asked to allow him he places a few of his belongings on Nutmeg.

The only time when he seems to lighten up a bit is when he challenges someone (usually Mr. Irstwil) to a small competition, like a quick race or a "bow-off" against some random target. He always challenges to his strengths however, never going for things like arm-wrestle or endurance races.

He has a strange habit of never passing up on free food (like fruits on a wild tree) but always ask if anyone wants some before taking the first bite.

He seems inpatient to get to Oleg's and "Are we there yet?" has been asked quite a few times. When he finally caught sight of the trading post he boy looked like he was going to explode and ran if front of everyone to get there first.

[♠Spade♠]

Leading his own packmule with a rope held in his right hand, Chance strides along with the rest of the group. The young man of house Medvyed had been (he hoped) pleasant company for the duration of their journey. He tried his level best to be charming and polite, as the nobility should. Beneath his gentlemanly exterior lurks a beast of a different color. Occasionally a sense of humor will surface, and based on a few odd comments over the past days, he may not be what he seems. He certainly seems to have done this sort of thing before, easily helping make and break camp, and marches with the ease of a seasoned traveler.

He tramps along in sturdy, if well worn, knee-length boots of dark brown. He wore a white shirt above tan pants and under a black coat seemingly made of leather, when he didn't have it draped over his shoulder or his supplies. He also has a dagger and rapier belted at his waist. Chance keeps his hands gloved, and nobody has seen him use his left hand to do anything other than rub the scar below his eye while in thought.

He failed to complain about the breaks for bathing as he also rather enjoyed being clean and gave him an opportunity to shave. He also didn't object to Neila acting like she led the expedition, even though he was older and his family's lands were far closer. Given how her appearance clashed with her behavior, Chance made no secret that he was interested in seeing how she handled the challenges ahead.

As for the others, he pretty much took as they were except for Talindra, who he would stare intently at while in conversation, as though trying to remember if he had seen her somewhere before.

[puctheplayfull]

http://img153.imageshack.us/img153/5133/olegstradingpostpartial.jpg

Finally reaching your long sought destination, your journey is at an end as you make your way around the trading post to the south facing gate. It has not been a particularly difficult journey, but it has been long. For several days, you have traveled the South Rostland Road in the growing warmth of spring. Looking forward to a night spent in a bed, instead of on the ground, you approach the open wooden doors to the small fort. Now that you have a closer view, the tall palisade walls, and towers are worn, but seem sturdily built. The wood shows signs of rot in only a few places along the walls length.

As you make your way through the large wooden double doors, which appear to have been recently rehung, you see before you a small courtyard with several very old looking buildings, all with signs of recent repairs. Seen from inside the walls, each of the towers seems to have an ill maintained catapult atop it. Much of the left wall is taken up by a stable, the doors slightly ajar, yellow straw flowing out into the open yard. A roofed pen, fenced in with a small gate at the front lies directly ahead of you, across the small yard. A path between it and the stables looks to lead to the back wall where you can make out what appears to be 3 covered wholes of good width. To the right of this pen sits a modest cottage with the door slightly open, and faint smells of fresh bread wafting from the windows. Two empty tables at either side of a fire pit, a large black cauldron simmering over it, separate the cottage from a modest sized building to the right of the main doors. From the roof of this building you hear grunting as a man moves about repairing the thatching.

As you make your way into the courtyard, the thatcher, presumably Oleg, descends a wooden ladder near the doors. He wears a dark expression on his lined hard face. He stands a little over five feet, and though he looks like he has seen his share of hard labor, the years have given him a swollen belly to go with his thick arms. His once dark brown hair is touched with grey at the temples, and his cold blue eyes, though sharp, show a certain weariness. He is dressed simply in woolen breeches and a light colored tunic, both drenched with sweat from his work. As he approaches he turns to Chance, likely assuming the noble looking man leads the group. Welcome. His simple greeting is almost barked out as he eyes the group with dark curiosity. I 'spect you're the adventuring group what has come to explore the Greenbelt. It seemed more a gruff statement than a question as suspicion touches his darting eyes.

Oleg! a woman's voice calls from the door of the cottage, and you are quickly joined by dark haired woman with a warm smile. These are our guests. Once more, they've come to help us, you could at least civil if not respectful. Oleg seems to shrink back slightly from the woman's chastising, though his dour expression does not change. He watches your group from just behind her shoulder. The woman turns back to the group, her smile returning as she does. Please forgive my husband, he has been in a foul mood of late. I am Svetlana Leveton, welcome to our home, and business. Svetlana is a woman who's beauty has not faded with her growing age, but matured from what was likely a girlish charm. Her welcoming almost motherly smile falls upon each of you, though the briefest look of perplexity crosses her face as she takes in Sprig's appearance (covered as he is by many small vials), but is quickly vanishes replaced again by the warm smile. Please, you must be tired, come have a seat, she gestures towards the nearest of the tables, its benches already pulled out, I've prepared a warm meal that should be ready to serve very soon.

[Archive]

Lucky looks like he wants to salute, bow, dismount, stand, and respond to both of them, all at the same time. "Yes sir we're...whoa, ah, wai..." *poof, crunch, splat* "haha, I'm ok!" Lucky says jumping back to his feet. "Sorry, I get a bit excited. My name is Lucky, paladin of Erastil!" he says while dusting himself off.

"Thank you ma'am, for your hospitality. A home cooked meal sounds delicious." Lucky climbs into the nearest bench seat, and begins to salivate.

[King Tius]

Sprig Fizzlewiz

Sprig deftly dismounts Thistle and takes her reins. As he strokes the side of her head she seems to nibble at his hair.

"Thank you for the hospitality. Mind if we stable our horses? I've coin to pay if need be."

[arkol]

Nash Manran, CG Tiefling Human Rogue

Nash doesn't speak much as the owners of the Trading Post come to greet them. A cordial nod followed by a "Sir..." and "Ma'am".

While his mouth doesn't do much his eyes are constantly shifting from one place to another absorving the small details of the battered fort.

Perception check to notice anything we wouldn't on a first glance[roll0]

If Oleg allows the use of the stables he turns to Talindra as asks:

"Should I take care of Nutmeg miss Lebeda?" motioning his hand towards the stable.

[Selinia]

Neila, Courtyard

Some part of the young woman rankled when the keeper of the trading post addressed Chance, but it was nothing she wasn't used to. Coughing politely, she pulled the carefully-rolled scroll from its readily-available sling on her pack, presenting it to Oleg.

"Your suspicions would be correct. We are adventurers, chartered by the Dragonscale Thone to aid in the reclamation of the Greenbelt." Whether Oleg takes the charter to confirm her claim or simply lets her stow it again, she extends a hand, slipping off her gauntlet and leaving only the cloth glove underneath. "I am Neila, of House Garess. You and your wife have our thanks for your hospitality. I expect we shall be seeing precious little such once we enter the Stolen Lands, and it will be quite pleasant to get a full night's sleep and a hot meal before we head into the wilds."

She put all the authority she could muster into her voice, silently hoping that the man would take her seriously. At least he wasn't tall enough to properly glare down at her.

[Zealumieo]

Talindra Rainenyn Lebeda (Call me by whichever you'd like)

The Half-Elf's stared upwards past the wooden entrance, catching a glimpse of the catapults at the tops of the walls. Already the confirmations of bandits more organized then the average rabble were being made.

She'd walked forward with Nutmeg, having been joined by Nash in particular recently. In particular, she found his company the best- not overly energetic, but also not too stoically respectful for her tastes. The Oracle had no issues with him borrowing space in a few of Nutmeg's packs. Neila was another sort of young adult, a Lady among dwarves wasn't much of a lady (she did not admit that openly from her mouth). Talindra didn't contest her self appointed position, she herself had no interest in it- and if someone else wished to lead then they'd have to say it for themselves. The half-elf couldn't help but hold her ground at Chance's staring, being stared at by handsome men generally only happened when her father or mother had wanted her to be courted. Talindra had talked to him a bit longer then she'd deemed as acquaintance worthy. She stayed a bit farther away from both the Medvyed and Garess- both the only other recognizable nobles.

In her musings and stares, she'd almost forgotten to look down and catch the Thatcher and the Lady innkeep. She was with Nash on the short and brisk responses... later on reminding herself to formally speak to Svetlana when she wasn't going to be bogged down by guests. Her head naturally turned to the Nash when he'd turned toward her in her peripheral, "Oh yes please, I'd appreciate it if you would. But first," digging into her packs, she pulled out the clean mapmaking kit, "There we go, felt like I should show this to the group."

As for the bumblings, announcements, and other reactions from the group- the Half elf could get the gist of what they were doing just by sight.

[♠Spade♠]

Chance had to suppress a small smile at Neila's imperious manner, but he made no move to stop her assertion of authority. He moved to put himself slightly behind Neila and to her left. Inclining his head at her he said to Oleg, "As the Lady Garess says, we are indeed the adventurers you were expecting." Giving a polite bow to the Levetons, he introduced himself "I am Chance Medvyed." Glancing around at the walls and catapults, he asked "Have you been having any issues with interlopers, out here?"

[dr.cello]

Cenbryht, CG elf diviner

"Ah, hello! I'm Cenbryht. Or rather--no, just call me Cenbryht." Cenbryht beams at his hosts, then promptly looks around at the various signs of recent repairs. "You need help fixing things? I'm good at fixing things." He pauses. "Well, it's a hobby." Another pause. "Well, I dabble," he concludes. "Just say the word. Happy to help."

With another smile he turns his attention to the map-making kit. "Lovely! Love a map. Never had much use for them, myself, of course. Maps are for people who want to know where they're going. A grin, and he takes his horse by the reins and starts off towards the stables.

[Khantin]

Ilbin 'Wildeye' Irstwil, NG half elf ranger.

Ilbin bows deeply to his hosts and greets them solemnly.

"My name is Ilbin Irstwil. Your offer of food and shelter is most generous; I will gladly partake of whatever food you have available. However I have grown accustomed to the canopy of the stars, and so I prefer to sleep out of doors, weather permitting of course."

Upon shaking Oleg's hand he unslings his bag, his axe, and his quiver and lays them on the ground, next to a building, out of the way of traffic. Then he sits beside his gear cross legged and exhales slowly, taking in all the details of the small trading post. He gathers them in, noticing the new doors, and all the recent repairs. A troubled expression grows on his face, but he remains stoic, for now.

[puctheplayfull]

At the sight of Lucky falling from his pony, Oleg's expression turns to doubtful confusion before returning to the dour look he had been giving the group before. In contrast, Svetlana gives the briefest of giggles, before composing herself once more. Oleg nods curtly to each of you in turn, and seems surprised when Neila steps forward to pass him the charter. He glances it over as Svetlana returns your polite greetings. Of course you may stable your mounts and pack animals, she exclaims pleasantly in response to Sprig's question. For his part, Oleg gives a noncommittal grunt and passes the charter back to Neila, his eyes still touched with a bit if the initial shock at finding out she seems to lead this strange band.

A bit of pink touches Svetlana's cheeks at Chance's gallant bow and introduction, though her warm expression changes quickly to worry, her hand rising instantly to cover her mouth, at his question of their troubles. Surely they told you of our requests for aid in Rostland? Their letter said they were sending you to help us before you set off to explore the Greenbelt. Even as she asks this, Oleg throws his hands in the air, a look of exasperation plain on his face and stomps off, muttering some choice curses as he does so and leaving his wife to complete the greetings and arrangements with the party.

Cenbryht and Ilbin, your introductions seem lost on your hostess in her worrisome state. Her eyes dart back and fourth between Neila, who has presented herself as the groups leader, and Chance, seemingly looking for some reassurance that you all are indeed aware of their present situation.

[King Tius]

Sprig looks up quizzically at Svetlana, his head turning a bit too far to one side as he does so, making him look like some kind of bird (and no less ridiculous, being a gnome). He glances back and forth between Svetlana and Neila before saying out loud and to nobody in particular:

"Aid? What kind of aid?"

[Zealumieo]

Talindra Rainenyn Lebeda (Call me by whichever you'd like)

Staring off at Nash, Cenbryht, and the others going off to the stable, Talindra seemed unmoved by the problems being proclaimed of by the hostess. Turning back, she could only respond with an irate stare at the state of Miss Leveton and the stomping off of the Mister. This was apparently not a good time to ask for a map of the area. The Half-Elf remained silent, no use in jumping in when she didn't have a good sense of what was going on.

[Khantin]

Ilbin 'Wildeye' Irstwil, NG half elf ranger.

Ilbin followed the dialog between the hosts and his group as he relaxed and rested his feet.

"Look around you little one. These are hard working folk in a lawless land. Their property has been suffering damages lately, animals avoid civilization if they can. They're most likely getting shaken down by bandits on a regular basis."

Wildeye stands up and walks over to Svetlana, facing her directly.

"Is that not the reason you asked for aid?"

[Selinia]

Neila, LG Human Fighter

A brief moment of relief that Oleg had met her with nothing worse than slight incredulity (she made a mental note to thank Chance for his support at some point) was quickly washed away at the nervous manner of the couple. "I am afraid that we were not informed of this when we received our charter." This was an unexpected turn of events, but one that really only had one response. "However, you are within the region we have been tasked with aiding, and we were directed to you specifically. We would be sorely negligent in our duties to not aid you with whatever is troubling this honest settlement - from the state of this place, I would guess you have been attacked."

Her tone wasn't exactly comforting, but it was solid and clear in its resolve. "That said, speculation is really not the most productive use of time - particularly if there is danger about. Goodwife Leveton, tell us what is wrong, and I assure you that my company will do all we can to aid you." As she spoke, she habitually slipped her hand back into its gauntlet, fastening the straps and working her fingers into the metal digits with the ease of many hours of practice.

[arkol]

Nash Manran, CG Tiefling Human Rogue

Nash takes care of securing Nutmeg and helps out anyone else who might be placing their mounts or pack animals in the stables. As quickly as he can he runs back outside just in time to hear Nelia's words. Realizing something is not right he tries to catch on what's going on.

[dr.cello]

Cenbryht, CG elf diviner

Cenbryht happily accepts Nash's help stabling his horse, then awkwardly pats the creature on the mane."Good, yes! I'm sure you'll get plenty of . . . horse things. Oats and such. I'm sure they're fine people."

With that, he returns from the stables, arriving some moments after Nash, in time to hear Neila's last words. "Right! Like she said. Fixing things, helping people. Getting attacked by bandits. Nothing we haven't done before! Well, Irony and me, anyway. Don't know about the rest of this lot, but--" here he glances around wildly and settles on Neila, clapping a hand on her armored shoulder). "Neila here's ready for anything, look at her! We'll soon have this place set proper, you'll see."

[Archive]

After a short time, Lucky wanders back out. "...Fooood? Oh! I need to put Sterling away." he says, noticing others stabling their mounts. Lucky scampers off to secure his pony and gear.

[puctheplayfull]

Svetlana nods slightly at Ilbin's mention of bandits, her expression changing again, though, to one of gratitude with Neila's promise of aid. We have indeed been troubled by bandits. They first came three months ago, and have returned the first of each month since. They usually arrive within an hour of sunrise, demanding "taxes," she says the word as though it puts a bad taste in her mouth, and takes a moment before continuing. After their first visit, we've been ready with everything before they arrive, so they can leave quickly and be done with it. I think their camp is in the Greenbelt, likely a days ride away with how eager they seem to be to make their way back.

The first time they came, there were nearly two score, and they were led by a cloaked man with a longbow, and a viscous woman who carried two small hatchets. She suddenly looks around frightened, as though this woman may pop up at being mentioned. She nearly took Oleg's hand off as a joke, and then took my wedding ring as payment for not... n-not "s-sh-shortening his reach." The recollection seems to have stirred back up the anguish of it, for Svetlana begins to sob into her hands shaking... The spell seems to pass after a few moments, and she regains enough to composure to continue her tale. She w-was a vile woman, she begins, and I am s-surely glad she d-did not return in the last two m-months. Only the h-hooded m-man seems to be coming back, and with f-fewer men each time. She fights off further tears as she continues. The second t-time we met them, there were little more than a dozen including the hooded m-man. The l-l-last time, only he and eight of his th-thugs returned. They m-mu-must think us v-very much the c-c-cowards by n-now. Again she is racked by sobs, though she seems to be fighting herself to regain composure. Th-they are d-due again tomorrow morning. Oleg and I h-hoped you would be here before they c-came, and our prayers were answered, th-though I must b-beg your forgiveness as it s-seems you have walked b-b-blindly into our f-fight. As she finishes, she stands quietly, still fighting the sobs, and blinking back tears. Oleg can be heard shuffling around on the roof of the nearby building, working again on the thatching.

[Selinia]

Neila, LG Human Fighter

People. Why did they always have to be so... people-y? Wincing very slightly at his touch, Neila gingerly used a gauntlet-clad hand to remove Cenbryht's appendage. Listening to Svetlana's story, she analyzes the threat quickly - simple bandits were nothing they couldn't handle. Crying on the other hand... what did someone do about crying? What was it that Tess had told her?

'When someone is crying, they're either very sad or very happy. It should be obvious which one. If they're sad, you tell them how you're going to help. If they're happy, you hug them.' She was sure she was forgetting something there, but it'd have to do.

"Well, we're some of the best the Dragonscale Throne could muster to send." Not... strictly true... but still. "Its hardly weak to capitulate to a vastly superior foe. You and your husband should give yourself credit for your resilience - many would have fled their homes in your place. If anything, the cowards are those who thought they needed to bring thirty men to extort protection money from a peaceful couple." Neila nodded briskly. "Tomorrow morning, we'll stop them. Mar an talamh. As the earth stands."

She glances at Chance, then at the other members of the group who were returning from various chores. "We should eat quickly, then prepare. If the enemy is coming at first light, we will likely have little time to do so in the morning."

[arkol]

Nash Manran, CG Tiefling Human Rogue

Nash quickly realizes the obvious, the bandits are very likely unaware of their precense in the trading post so an ambush seems like the obvious anwser. And HE knows ambush. Ok maybe not ambushes like this one but he does. If if his years in the streets taught him something about ambushes was that you should know everything you can about your target.

Seeing as Svetlana is being more talkative than Oleg he gets closer to her and in a calm and soft voice presents himself:

"Hello there. Svetlana was it? I'm Nash" - he smiles poiting to himself - "there's nothing to be afraid you see. We might not haven been sent specifically to take care of your bandit problem, but our mandate does include putting an end to such acts. So, in a way he ARE here to help you." He smiles again.

"Now we could use some information if we are to drive them off. Anything you can tell us is usefull. How do you usualy receive them? Do they sack the buildings or you have some form of... tithe ready for them? What sort of weapons do they bring? Do they come on foot? Any other details might be usefull..."


And a diplomacy check just in case:
[roll0]

[puctheplayfull]

Svetlana's disposition brightens noticeably at your words of encouragement, though her eyes are still touched by tears. Yes, I had almost forgotten, I've made supper for you all. Please come eat. She leads the group over to the tables near the fire pit, and begins serving out a thick and hearty stew from the large cauldron over the fire. After which she dashes back into the house, and emerges with two large loaves of bread, a bottle of Elvish mead, and ten goblets.

As She opens and begins to pour the mead, Oleg makes his way down from the roof of the building opposite their cottage. Still covered in sweat he moves over to the cauldron and dishes out a bowl of the stew for himself. Addressing no one in particular in his gruff tone, The roof on the guest house is patched up. You lot can sleep there tonight. Don't worry 'bout paying as it sounds like you'll be helpin us after all. With that said, he takes a goblet form Svetlana and makes his way back into the cottage, without giving any of the group a second glance.

Please forgive my husband, Svetlana looks forlornly towards the cottage door through which Oleg just disappeared. He's been quite disturbed by this whole affair. Between not being able to defend me and our home himself, and some of the hints they made as to what would happen to me if we didn't meet their demands... It has been very difficult for him. She pours a goblet of the sweet amber liquid for each of you as she speaks. As he said, you all are very welcome to the guest house tonight. There are warm beds, and he has all the roof leaks fixed before the rainy season, so it should be quite dry as well. We still have a few hours before sunset if there are any preparations you wish to make before tomorrow. You may use anything we have at our disposal. Neither Oleg, nor myself are warriors by any account, and the most we have been able to come up with as a plan is for you all to hide amongst the guest building and stables until they arrive, and spring upon them when they begin to load their pack horses. This must seem quite simple to trained warriors though, and we will follow your lead in the matter. Her temper seems to have improved greatly over the last few minutes, though she still seems worrisome over Oleg's mood. Anyone watching while they eat will notice she continues to glance back at the cottage door between bites.

The stew is quite delicious, venison and vegetable, and there is plenty for second helpings. Before long, you all are well filled with this fine meal. Svetlana busies herself with gathering the used bowls and utensils, leaving what is left of the bread on the table for any who wants it. She then seals off the cauldron so that any leftovers will be ready to be made into a meaty porridge in the morning. She works quietly giving the group time to relax and discuss plans for tomorrow, but is ready at a moments notice to answer any questions they may have.

[puctheplayfull]

Svetlana begins answering Nash's questions right away. They come up from the south, and through the front doors. We generally leave them open for visitors, we do a little business with local trappers and old Bokken you see. We've learned since their first visit, that it is easiest to have everything they would want to take, mostly furs and leather, and tools over in the trading pen. She points to the fenced and roofed pen between the cottage and the stable. Indeed there is a pile of furs, two stacks of leather ready to be worked and various tools and foodstuffs, likely to be their trading stock for the week or month. The hooded man who seems to lead them, in that viscous woman's absence, always carries a long hunting bow with an arrow ready. The others are generally armed with short swords or maces, and most carry hunting bows as well. They'll have horses with them to carry back what they take from us. They usually ride in, but all dismount while some of them load the pack horses and the other mill about watching us or talking amongst themselves. Oleg and I just watch from the cottage door, not wanting to get in their way. Unfortunately, there is little more I can tell about them. We've not learned any of their names, or where abouts their camp is. I think it may be in the south though, as that is the direction they usually ride in from. Old Bokken may know of it, but I'm not sure if they bother him or not.

[Zealumieo]

Talindra Rainenyn Lebeda (Call me by whichever you'd like)

Once Svetlana was open to answer questions, Talindra also gave her formal introduction, "Apologies for the wrong impression. We'd known of bandits- but had only not expected their influence to appear so early in this virgin land. Talindra Lebeda," the oracle bowed in such a way that imitated a curtsy (without a skirt to do so), "if you need any healing hands I have two to spare." with a short laugh she presented both with open palms, "But seriously, if you have any maps of the surrounding area I would appreciate a look so that I may make a copy for this group."

Generally, the Half-Elf would've been upset at promises easily given by their leader without the groups consent. But in this case it was actually contractually implied by the charter they'd taken with them. Talindra had taken it to be her job to be there when negotiations came into play with merchants and their like... By her expensive appearance, Nelia seemed to show off her coin rather then conserve it. Not a favorable look if one wished to avoid being jilted by a wily trader.

"Your polite and heartfelt care towards us as guests will not be easily forgotten. And the lowlife curs who brought you such harm will meet their justice." Her last harsh words seemed unlike those spoken from a women of her stature... but Talindra mentioned them unrepentingly; for, to her, those bandits did deserve the noose or the blade.

[Archive]

Hastily finishing up his meal with a small burp, Lucky stands up on his bench seat. Those bandits don't stand a chance ma'am." Lucky declares, and begins to shadowbox against invisible enemies. He almost seems competent...until his foot misses the edge of the bench and he falls to the ground. "oof...I'm OK!" he says, climbing to his feet.

"It'll be a tight fit in the courtyard for everybody to be fighting at once, and I need some space to build up speed for charging. Maybe I should wait around back and swing around when I hear them come in."

Lucky dusts himself off and sits back down. "Hey Cennamon bun," Lucky says, pointing at Cenbryht "Can't you wiggle your fingers and make them blow up or somthing?""

Flashing a childlike grin looking up at the stars, Lucky throws his hands up in the air and laughs. "hehehe, BOOM!

[puctheplayfull]

Svetlana smiles warmly at Talindra. I thank you for your kind words and aid in helping us. We do have a small map of the area, though it is by far, not the full of the Greenbelt. You are welcome to make a copy. The only thing we have marked is Old Bokken's place.

She hurries into the little cottage, and then rushes back with a rolled piece of parchment. She presents the rolled map to Talindra. If there is anything else I can provide to help, please let me know.


http://img687.imageshack.us/img687/2843/olegandsvetlanasmap.jpg

[arkol]

Nash Manran, CG Tiefling Human Rogue

Nash sips the stew carefully and when he realizes it's actually quite good he says to Svetlana

"It's delicious!" - He then eats the whole bowl without a word. When Svetlana isn't looking he gently pushes his glass of mean towards anyone who already emptied his or her glass. When he finishes he waits till everyone is finishes with the main course and then adds:

"The lady plan might be simple but sounds effective at the same time no?"

When Svetlana comes around again he asks "Ms. Leveton would you happen to remember what sort of armor did the bandits wear? Nothing to fancy I hope?"

[dr.cello]

Cenbryht, CG elf diviner

Cenbryht waves his hand dismissively. "Cheap parlor tricks. Not a violent man by nature." He frowns thoughtfully."But I've got a trick or two up my sleeve. Always a favorite of mine, really." He taps his fingers on his chin absently. "Let's hope they all come inside and bunch up for us."

[Zealumieo]

Talindra Rainenyn Lebeda (Call me by whichever you'd like)

Talindra accepted the map from the proprietress with a silent but thankful nod. She took an initial glance at it, unfurling the parchment shortly before re-curling it back to its first shape. "I'll look at this in detail later, but first I'd like to eat some of the food everyone else is complimenting." She set aside the map along with her mapmaking kit away from the food. The Oracle was mildly interested in what Old Bokken's place was, but felt those questions could be presented later.

Pulling out a seat for herself, Talindra grabbed a serving of the stew. Murmuring a prayer to the god Gozreh, she appreciated the meal in verse before literally making a short gesture over the bowl- casting a simple spell over her food. She looked over at Nash, he'd already begun eating so she had no chance to do the same for him.

Purify Food and Drink. She does that for every meal, so it isn't as if she thinks she's being poisoned at this moment.
Slowly sipping her food, she listened to the proposals and plans for their battle at dawn. The group surprised her, showing far more spirit and mettle then she'd expected. Talindra had already disclosed her abilities to the group- but suggested that she stay in reach of the fighters... or possibly hidden nearby so that she was close at hand.

[Selinia]

Neila, LG Human Fighter

The young woman eats quietly, listening intently to Svetlana's information and the discussion of her comrades. Finishing off her meal, she speaks up again, tone thoughtful. She'd never been fond of puzzles, but a military challenge was something special. "Sir Lucky illustrates a fair point - we have far different skills. It would be foolish to use us as if we did." She made a point of using the title befitting a paladin. He clearly wielded the powers of his order - and such power did not come to just anyone. She knew all too well what it was like to have yourself discounted based on appearance.

"These are thugs and marauders. They do not expect any resistance at all - and I would expect that if pushed, they would flee. We can face a dozen, but I would not care to try ourselves against thirty bandits at once. There is a line between bravery and suicide, and that would most definitely be crossing it. We must ensure that all of those who come are captured or killed, or risk them gathering the rest of their band. Eight well-armed individuals would likely cause them to flee." Neila looked around the table.

"As much as I dislike the duplicity of it, our best option seems likely to be an ambush. These thieves and murders are unlikely to be overly cautious on a routine extortion trip. Goodman Manran - your particular style of combat functions best when you have the element of surprise and positioning on your side, no? As he suggested, Sir Lucky could conceal himself outside the walls - a charge around their rear would put them in a sore position, and the mobility of his mount will likely prove invaluable if any decide to try and run for it."

"But not all of us are particularly suited for... hiding." Neila gestured to herself, still clad in her armor - save for her gauntlets, which she had hung from her belt. She still wore her long gloves though - something she was rarely without. "I am afraid that I would hardly do more than give us away if I was to take up such a position. But as a diversion, I think I could do some good. Faced with a lone warrior, these bandits will almost certainly simply try to overwhelm me - what could one warrior do to them?" She doesn't seem to have considered the possibility that they might succeed. "It would be the perfect opportunity for all you to catch them unawares - while they are fixated on me."

[dr.cello]

Cenbryht, CG elf diviner

Cenbryht smiles at Neila's words. "Even bandits can't see behind walls. Well, unless they're scrying, but they'd only do that if they expected an ambush, and they'd only expect an ambush if they knew we were planning one, but they don't know we're here, so they couldn't possibly." He pauses. "Sorry, am I babbling? Usually it's just me and Irony on the roads. And my good horse, er, Horse, of course."

"The thing is, with you all surrounded by warriors, I can't be sure I won't hit you with my little parlor tricks, and I like you too much to do that to you. And besides, being confronted by a lone armed warrior? They'd smell a trap." He grins broadly here. "But some daft elf with no weapons and a backpack full of traveling things? If I were a plurality of bandits I'd be lining up! Besides, it'll let me get close."

[Archive]

"Oh, I know! Me and Sterling can be waiting in the stables and come charging out when we hear the signal. That's how it would happen in a bard's tale!" Lucky proclaims, as he crosses his arm and gives a quick nod indicating his mind is made up.

[♠Spade♠]

Chance had been quietly eating up to this point, but now spoke up. "Madame, you say that the all of the brigands enter the fort? How heavy is the gate? If we wish to prevent escape, then shutting the gates behind them should serve that purpose admirably. It looks as though one of the the doors when open blocks off the alley between the guest house and the wall. If one of us were to skulk behind it, they would remain out of site and could close it once the bandits are inside, effectively sealing them in."

[puctheplayfull]

Svetlana giggles at Lucky's display, but maintains a tone of seriousness when discussing the bandits and the coming morning. She turns in response to Nash's question, they wore what looked like thick leather, but it seemed worn and old. Nothing seemed fancy about them that I noticed. I'm sure if any of them were wearing anything more than average it would be that devil woman of a leader they have, she again takes a frightened look about, but more quickly regains herself.

She quietly listens as the planning commences, and continues to busy herself with cleaning up. At Chance's comments however she stops and considers looking at the doors to the trading post. They are not too heavy that I can't close one myself if I had to. Oleg normally closes them at dusk, and opens them a dawn. The one by the guest house would keep someone hidden, though the other might be harder to hide someone behind as all the bandits would have to do is look that way as they enter. She seems to ponder this for a few moments, gazing thoughtfully at the doors. I suppose would could create a similar hiding place as the other door by moving our wagon, she gestures to the old beat up looking wagon sitting next to the stables. I don't think they'd notice much if we gave a wider path inside.

[King Tius]

Sprig gazes around the compound, looking for a good place for him to hide and throw bombs. Seeing the catapults, he raises a hand and hops up and down like an excited toddler.

"Do those catapults still work? Maybe we could get one firing again and scare the bandits off before they even get here!"

[Zealumieo]

Talindra Rainenyn Lebeda (Call me by whichever you'd like)

"Nonono." Talindra cut in at Sprigs suggestion, "We don't want them running off... They'll just come back with more people later, possibly with nastier intentions for the Levetons." Comments like that generally earned the Half-elf a strike from a ruler. Her ears even rung when she thought about it... not with noise- but with phantom pain. "Despite the relative spinelessness of bandits, they're cushioning themselves with large numbers. If they were truely terrified of catapults then they'd have left this place be months ago."

Once the table was cleared of the food, she went back to the map and kit- returning to the table with both in hand. After a moment of looking at the kit the corner of Talindra's lips twitched, "By the way, does anyone have parchment and ink? I want to make an official copy of the map- instead of a one in chalk. Didn't realize it until we were here."

[Archive]

"Sleepy..." Lucky says, yawning out the end of the word. "There were only six beds in the guest house, right? I'll sleep in the stables then, Hay is still a step of from the ground."

Lucky begins to climb down out of his seat, suddenly looking very tired. Being that energetic seems to take its toll. Of course, the amount of food he ate probably didn't help. How something that small eats that much is a mystery.

[Selinia]

Neila, LG Human Fighter

The girl remains largely silent for the rest of the evening, occasionally putting out an idea - but for the most part, listening. They were making sense, and saying nice, reasonable, rational things. It was relaxing, as much as conversation ever was.

When the company dispersed for the night, she would enter the guesthouse... and pale slightly at the proximity of the beds. Backing out, slightly pale-faced, she pitched her tent in the back of the small compound. Neatly laying her armor aside, she curled up in her bedroll, trying to get a good night's sleep.

Tomorrow was a big day, after all.

OOC: In other words, ready for the fight whenever, by whatever plan is chosen.

[King Tius]

Sprig Fizzlewiz

With the battle plans pretty much set, Sprig heads to the stables and tends to Thistle as best he can. Usually he finds some kind of stool to stand on to brush her down. If there isn't one readily accessible in the barn, he'll just have to make due.

[arkol]

Nash Manran, CG Tiefling Human Rogue

As people start to leave the table Nash gets up and helps Svetlana cleaning up. Once that is done he takes a walk around the trading post to he's totally familiar with it. He takes a walk along the palisade and also around the area outside.

He then gets back inside and talks to everyone about their starting positions and likely course of actions. Lastly he adresses Oleg.

"Mister Leveton. In order for our ambush to be most effective we need to strike all at the same time. Since most of us will be hinding somewhere we need some sort of a signal to coordinate... if you were to receive the bandits and slip some codeword into the conversation we could all strike at the same time possibily ending the conflic before it even begins.

Are you up for it sir?"

Assuming he agrees Nash will then make sure everyone knows the codeword and that we're suposed to strike 2 rounds after it so that Talindra can cast two spells"


Once the preparations are all done Nash heads for the guesthouse to sleep. Realizing there's only 6 beds he fetches his bedroll and sets it somewhere along the floor of the guesthouse.

[♠Spade♠]

With the discussion apparently over and everybody going about their business, Chance stretched before making his way to the guest house. He observed Neila's action and filed that tidbit away in his head before entering and claiming whatever bed was nearest. Putting his coat and weapons under his bed, he was almost instantly asleep.

[Zealumieo]

Talindra Rainenyn Lebeda (Call me by whichever you'd like)

With no one really answering her call for materials. That, or she'd missed an offer. Talindra simply bought what she needed from the trading couple.

>.> Ink and parchment to make a map. If I could roll and see if she could get a discount out of it I would.
Talindra remained at the table for quite some time, diligently copying over a map in her own handwriting. It was rather obvious to the observer that her basic art skills were far below her skill in Calligraphy. Being the one minded perfectionist she was, Talindra stayed at that table until she found the copy satisfactory. When everyone else had snuffed out their lights, Talindra covered her own light-spelled rock so that it would only shine on her parchment.

Having lost sense of time whence the map had the appropriate section filled in, Talindra packed up her various items. Wishing to check up on Nutmeg in the stables, she made a point to go around the long way to avoid rousing Ilbin. Talindra had a kneejerk reaction at the sight of Lucky sleeping in he corner of the stable- immediately covering her pebble light with her left hand. Making her way silently to the guesthouse, Talindra took one last look at the Leveton's household to see if anything was amiss.
Perception [roll0] Lol...
Upon entering the guesthouse, Talindra rolled her eyes. Two empty beds and Nash was on the floor. Prodding the young rogue awake, she pointed out that he didn't need to be on the ground like a dog. Whether or not he actually moved or just fell asleep again- the half-elf waited until he was asleep until going to bed herself. She wasn't all that concerned to be sleeping in a room with grown men... Nash was a good young gentleman, Spring was a Gnome, Cenbryht seemed to have more interest in discovering culture, Ilbin was outside, and Chance wouldn't dare... she found the idea of being taken advantage of by him unimaginable.

[arkol]

Nash Manran

"Humm? What? It's time already?"

[Zealumieo]

Talindra Rainenyn Lebeda (Call me by whichever you'd like)

"No. Not yet. But shh... Lucky is in the stable, Nelia is in her tent, and Ilbin is outside under the stars. Nothings wrong- but you're sitting on the floor when you don't need to be. I just wanted you to know you could enjoy a bed tonight seeing as you probably won't have another chance after this." Talindra said as quickly and quietly as possible. It was rather simple reasoning, but she seemed rather insensitive to another man's sleep hours.

[King Tius]

Sprig Fizzlewiz

Being a gnome, Sprig will happily volunteer to sleep on the floor. In fact, if possible, he would like to sleep under somebody's bed. Gnomes live under ground, after all.

[arkol]

Nash Manran

Nash looks around the room as if confirming what Talindra just said and the half-elf maiden is not certain if he's actually seeing anything as he moves his head around but his eyes are still closed. He then adds "I'll be right over..." and falls like a rock into his bedroll again.

[dr.cello]

Cenbryht, CG elf diviner

Cenbryht happily takes whatever bed is leftover and quickly makes himself comfortable--certainly not the sort of man who is concerned about taking what comforts are available, or questioning the sleeping conditions of others. His cat, Irony, curls up at his feet.

"Bright and early tomorrow, old friend. Well, not so much bright as half-lit pre-dawn and early. But early. Definitely early."

And with that, silence.

[puctheplayfull]

It is with Svetlana you speak Nash as Oleg has either bedded down for the night, or simply refuses to come out after earlier taking his stew into the cottage. However the good lady Leveton agrees to let Oleg know of your signal for their attack, and to try and work it into a greeting to them. She as well thanks you quite warmly for ading in what cleanup was left.

Talindra, When asked about ink and parchment, Sveltlana brings some to you strait away, waving away any attempt at payment. It is a trifle compared to the danger to which you all put yourselves on our behalf. With that, the discussion of payment is over. As you look about the camp, you notice nothing out of the ordinary, though you do see Chance leaving though the double doors of the trading post after walking full about the inside.

You each bed down for the evening, thinking of what is to come... of your first real test in combat as a team. For some, this may prove as restful as any other evening. For others, however, it may be a fitful night with little rest. Peaceful, or otherwise, the night does not seem nearly as long as your others on the road...

You are each woken in turn by Svetlana. She holds her finger over her mouth to indicate silence and pushes a bit of bread and cheese into your hand after shaking you awake. As you rouse yourselves, you see it is still deeply dark outside, and hear grunts as Oleg busies himself readying the tithe for the bandits. As you move about, and work the stiffness of sleep out, Oleg finishes his work, and approach's the group. Svetlana's a'told me of your plan. I'll try an be a'bit more "cordial" with the curs and see if I can work your code word into the conversation. They'll be here in little over'n hour. Just afore the morning birds start and the 'orizon lights. If his attitude and speech were gruff and unwelcoming before, they have only darkened into a grave despondence. He seems a man on the verge of telling you off despite his agreement with your plan. Continuing in his somber tone, We bes' get the wagon moved, he points to Nash and Chance, you two can help me with it, while the res' get in position. Without waiting for a response he moves over to the wagon, and makes ready to move it by the mountings for the horse.

OoC: Now is the time for any last second planning in the OoC thread. I'm posting the battle map in my next post, and will keep it updated as we go. All the letters and numbers line up well enough to tell where people want to go, despite being a bit simply done. Future maps should be of a better quality. The wagon will take up 9-13 in Rows G and F, with the tack for the horse facing west. This leaves the space under the palisade walkway open is someone is going to hide on that side. Both doors will be completely opened. Now is the time for everyone to decide which square they are going to occupy at start. Along with descriptions of the hastened morning routine and any quick conversation, I need an OoC indication of what your starting square will be, and I will mark it accordingly when I update the map. We can assume Talindra is holding an action for Oleg's signal (I need to know what this is in the OoC thread please) and after I make the first post where he says your code word, I will need init from everyone, except Talindra. As everyone else is holding actions until after she goes for two rounds, she will be placed at the top of the init for this combat. Of course if she later holds an action, it will adj her init accordingly. I also need stealth checks from anyone that will be in a position where they will be able to see the bandits, as the bandits will be able to see them (a chance of it at least). Anyone waiting completely out of sight, and not moving, such as behind the eastern door of the trading post between the guest house and palisade, or in the guest house for that matter, (not at a window) need not make this check. That said, I wish you all luck on your first combat as a group.

[puctheplayfull]

Battle Map


http://img202.imageshack.us/img202/96/olegstradingpostbattleg.jpg

[Selinia]

Neila, Human Fighter

Morning. That meant... battle. Battle today. She stretched out, beginning to pack up her bedroll and don her equipment. She reached for her gloves, preparing to slip them on as usual... her hands were shaking. That was bad. She needed to be calm. Collected. She couldn't afford to let herself be undermined now of all times.

A deep breath. Tess had always meditated when she was stressed. Neila had never quite gotten the hang of it, but... it was worth a try. She brought the words to memory of the passage that had always been her favorite.

"The mountain stands, one hundred steps away. Each is impossible. But I hold the mountain in my gaze, for it does not move. And as I face the first step, I know that the ninety-nine are just as simple." Neila exhaled, opening her eyes. "For it is the first step that alone thinks it can thwart me." It... didn't help. But it at least let her imagine Tess saying it with her, and that did help.

Clamping on the final pieces of armor, flexing her fingers in the heavy gauntlet, Neila broke down her tent and stowed it away with the rest of the gear the company had stashed for the night. She gave a quiet nod to any others she noticed making their own preparations, but did not engage any of them. The barest glimmer of light was peeking over the hills as the young fighter took up her position in the group's plan. There would be battle soon. And she was ready. Physically, at least.

[Khantin]

Svetlana's steps through the small trading post woke Ilbin. The sky was a deep purple, the stars fading under the lightening sky. Always a light sleeper, Ilbin was alert and ready in moments. He prepared his gear, and stowed his equipment out of sight, then began to eliminate all traces of his groups presence.

Today was an important day. A beginning of something important. As a group they had taken the charter and agreed to come to this untamed land, and make it better. But today was the first real step, the first brick in the wall, or perhaps it would go the other way. Perhaps they'd be outfought, outmaneuvered, overpowered, and then Svetlana and Oleg would die with them.

Ilbin shook his head and cleared the negative thought. The stout half-elf spotted Neila preparing herself for the day. An idle thought nagged at him, I wonder how many here have killed before. I wonder if they know what it is to end a life. Then Ilbin spoke aloud, as if to clarify or reassure himself of the thought.

"Can't afford doubt. Focus and determination is all. Put in everything you have, and let fate decide the rest."

And then he took up position beside the wagon and hid himself as best he could.

stealth: [roll0]

[Zealumieo]

Talindra Rainenyn Lebeda (Call me by whichever you'd like)

Talindra woke up mildly nauseated. Unfortunately, the comfort of a normal bed had the opposite effect on her. After a short mental battle after the rousing, the Half-elf discarded the feeling attributing it to the last shred of homesickness she had for Lake Reykal and her daughter rivers. Rolling over the side of the bed, she thanked Svetlana's consideration for waking her.

Another swell overcame Talindra, making her gag for a moment. 'I could die today... tomorrow... well I know I'll die someday- better make peace with that fact.' Talindra steeled herself, she wasn't all that concerned about the lives of the bandits. Natural order it was. Act lawless on another's land and the law will catch up to you. The same could be said about the wilderness they were going to (hopefully) enter. If one disrespected the harshness of nature- it would find a way to cripple and kill those interloping upon it.

Pushing aside the covers, the oracle strapped up her boots, swept up her food, and went outside. She took a scant moment to splash herself with water and rebraid her hair... multitasking her actions with food in her mouth. Luckily it was still dark out- so it was doubtful anyone was watching her less then ladylike behavior. On that matter, she was far less concerned with everyone else's morning rituals... Oleg's gruff help was reassuring. Out of all those gathered here, he was the one risking the most. By no means did that mean Talindra would respond with mercy if he sold them out.

Unlike the various thoughts going through her head, she stood tall among her peers- whether or not she had confidence in herself, she would be a source of one in her outward appearance.

[King Tius]

Sprig crawls out from under the bed and yawns loudly. Passing a hand through his disheveled blue hair, he seems momentarily bewildered about where he was. Slowly the expression fades as the gnome's brain finally manages to turn on. It is clear to the rest of you that Sprig is NOT a morning person. Still, today was a big day, and he needed to prepare!

Taking a good fifteen minutes to don his armor and bandoleers, the little alchemist readies for the fight. Finding a suitable place to do his mixing, he begins drawing vials and small bits of powder from different places around his body. Sometimes giving them a small taste, other times a sniff, he takes stock of his inventory before concocting two small vials and placing them in a prominent position on his belt loops.

With his extracts prepared he takes a few minutes to polish and examine his crossbow before stowing it. When it comes time to prepare for the ambush, he scampers up to the palisade and lays down at his vantage point. He loads his crossbow and sets it next to him so that he can grab it more easily. Finally, he draws a tiny clay pot from a satchel slung about his shoulder and adjusts a small pouch near his stomach so that he isn't laying directly on top of it.

"Ready when you are! Try not to stand too close to them so I can chuck my bombs!"

Stealth Check: [roll0]

[Archive]

Lucky wakes to the sound of others preparing for the fight ahead. Scratching his back and stomach where they hay has irritated his skin, he climbs to his feet. Before donning his over-large chain shirt, he brushes off some of the hay which clings to his underclothes. With a yawn and a stretch he stumbles forth towards his trusty steed. As he attaches the tack, he wispers quietly to the mounts to settle them. The last thing the group needs is the horses to alert the enemy to their presence.

Handle animal: see below

"Don't worry guys, Erastil is lookin' out for me, and I'm lookin' out for you. That's like Erastil's lookin' out for you too." Lucky wispers quietly to Sterling. With that last bit of "logic", Lucky mounts his steed and hefts his lance up from where it leans.

[Archive]

Handle animal: see below

[roll0]

Fun fact: numbers, brackets, and symbols apparently don't count as characters.

[arkol]

Nash Manran

Nash realizes that Svetlana woke up everyone at the same time and so kept his blanket over his head. If anyone adress him he just shoo's them away with a "I'll be right there...".

Then when everyone else exits the guesthouse he quickly gets up and does his thing.
The disguise of course

A few minutes later he steps outside, and nods in agreement when he sees Wildeye cleaning up their footprints and other tracks.

"A con is all about the details!" He whispers to himself, remembering the words of Tommy. He smiles and joins the Levtons and the others on the early breakfast. Everyone seems sure of themselves and he tries his best to look too.

[dr.cello]

Cenbryht

Cenbryht awakes with little fuss, taking a few moments to look over his spellbook, then, Irony on his shoulder, makes his way to the stables. He will continue idly leafing through his spellbook until the bandits enter the camp. Were it not for his getting into position, it would be entirely believable, from his demeanor, that he had forgotten about the ambush entirely.

Spellbook for today: 3 Color Spray, 2 Grease. Bonus divination spell: Identify. Cantrips: Detect Magic, Read Magic, Ghost Sound, Mage Hand, Mending, Message, Daze.

[♠Spade♠]

Chance rolled out of bed, pulling on his coat and swordbelt. Making his way out of the guesthouse, he sat on a picnic table and munched on his bread and cheese as he watched others go through their own morning routines. Once he was done eating, he sauntered around to the alley between the guesthouse and fort wall and began to wait.

[puctheplayfull]

Battle Map

http://img263.imageshack.us/img263/1531/olegstradingpostbattlem.jpg