[PF] Finding Paths and Making Kings

[Miraqariftsky]

Finding Paths and Making Kings

The first night passed uneventfully. The only disturbances that the night-watch encountered were some disturbing grunts, knocks and shuffles from the prisoners’ pit, marring the beauty of the myriad strains of birdsong, the hooting of owls and the chorus of crickets. In the nameless distance, a wolf howled.

Come the next morn, even the captive bandits helped break up their camp and pack away their various pieces of gear, loading the lot onto the cart, of course, under the keen vigilance of Walters and company. Gendry the porter upon seeing the party again, victorious and loot-laden, was elated, but his cheer swiftly turned to ash as he saw Damon’s ordered corpse and the heavily-bandaged Winters, still forced to gasp and whisper, leaning heavily on Walkers’ arm.

Their mules and wagon creaked along in the centre of their formation, the well-chained captives trudging along in the dust and dung behind the cart. Every so often, some of them grumbled and complained, but the death-glares of the Sarenite firebrand in their midst silenced the sinful scum.

Up at the formation’s fore, the two stalwart soldiers, Walters and Walker led the way, their strength and great weapons serving just as well to levering some stray bits of fallen branches and forking away bits of overgrown undergrowth. At one point, there was a viper in the grass that hissed out, lashing at Deran’s leg, only to be pegged by a quarrel from Jax’ crossbow, the thuggish former boatman having appropriated one, as well as a pike and one of Kressle’s hatchets.

Behind, having decided that Vasili was pleasant enough company, Tessalonika helped bring up the party’s rear. She jested well enough and seemed curious of the frontiersman’s gun, as well as asking him of its make and mechanism, his exploits, his travels… and of “Old Man Gonads” before he got lost in the Stolen Lands.

Eventually, she asked as well about Walker and his earlier flusteredness and of his present sulking and staring at the two of them. Her laugh was clear and crisp and she ambled up to the young spearman, her hair a fiery flurry as she chatted him up on his travels and his travails, his hopes and his harrows.

Lunch and later dinner were sparse affairs of fried eggs, waybread and beer tapped from one of the looted barrels. As the afternoon wore on, the treetops seemed to murmur and whisper as increasing wind whipped amongst the canopies. It was not a glorious and beautiful sunset that day, only a grey sky that slowly darkened into a silent dusk and all-fathoming night.

Trenches were dug and a large fire was set for camp security. The campfires flickered and guttered dangerously as the winds howled and rose through the night.

Prisoner interrogation was a dreary affair conducted mostly by Elanore, Deran and Vasili, sometimes with Walter and Walkers substituting, often with Jax and Tess either corroborating or denying the various surviving bandits’ claims. Sometimes, force, physical or otherwise, had to be applied.

The human archer with the bandaged hand, going by the name of Sam, confessed that he’d been an itinerant hunter before joining Kressle’s group on the promise of loot and plunder. Jaxon grated at him to spit the rest and he does so. Turned out, he was the son of a minor Brevan border-baron, an only son amongst half a dozen daughters. He was slated to take over after their father died, but he simply didn’t want the job. His sisters helped him out of the estate… by smuggling him out as a common maid. The others called him both with respect and derision, “Sister Whore”, for his crossdressing, unashamedness and willingness to try and restrain the others’ baser impulses.

The knocked-out flail-man, a halfelf named Guthialyn, at first only said that he was just another farmer unwillingly recruited when Kressle and crew came rolling through. The sullen stares of the other bandits gave him away. He was indeed a farmer somewhere in the nameless frontiers, but slew his brother over the favours of a maid and was run out of town. He killed one of the militiamen who came after him. Took the sword from an Aldori bounty hunter hired by the town to put him down. Took to Kressle and crew as a wolf with other wolves.

By the time the interrogators got to the other halfelf among the bandits, the man’s eyes were bloodshot and he was already shivering and jittering--- and not from the bite of the cold night’s howling weather. When Walkers came close to him, the man lunged at him, gibbering incoherently, flailing with his fists. Walkers clobbered him into submission with his pikehaft. Standing huffing over the battered bandit, the others volunteered that he was named Father Iames Iakovsky, an apostate village priest, formerly sworn to the service of Erastil. Though wearing the ordained cloth, he was a man of fiendish lust and rage. He molested his altar-boys using both flesh and iron. A visiting herbalist-alchemist had sold him a weight of weirdroot and other drugs when he’d complained of headaches. When he imbibed, he grew even more violent, but on the come-down snatched smatchets of sanity when he’d be utterly guilt-wracked. After the first time, he simply fled and ran and ran… until he got himself into Kressle’s crew.

The two halforc crossbowmen were brothers, Jorge and Carlito. Jorge was the elder brother, slighter of stature but more cunning of stance and speech. Carlito was the younger brother, a large brute but slow of speech and simple of mind. When questioned, the two answer straight, but with Jorge doing most of the talking. They were simple stevedores and porters along the Great Lake, had lived a quiet enough life--- but Jorge did admit to doing some guild-thievery on the side to better provide for their younger siblings after their parents had died in the previous season’s blight. Be that as it may, Carlito fell madly in love with an Issian noble who’d gotten off the docks on business and was just passing through. Her guards set upon him when he tried to talk to her. Nevertheless, he tried and tried again, night after night with broken-tongued, broken-toothed diligence and the lady finally granted him an audience and let him into her bower. Not knowing his own strength, he broke her in bed, was found in the morning, tortured to an inch of his life and condemned to be hanged, drawn and quartered by the morning. Jorge pulled all his favours in the local thieves’ guild, broke his brother from the gaol and fled. They took to the wilderness, stealing or slaying, begging or boating to make ends meet and eventually signing on with Kressle’s crew.

The rain came in the night, simply pattering steadily but relentlessly. Bodies and spirits were sodden, especially after the harrowing interrogations of the night before.

The rain turned the ground into a mire. Almost a dozen times, the cart had sunk up to its axles in the mud and almost everyone had to pitch in with heaving limbs and taut backs in hauling the thing out.

Winters’ and Elanore’s spellwork made the going a bit easier, magicks helping the others resist the swift assault of colds, cough, fever and flu as well as bug-bites. They didn’t help with the incessant buzzing and splashing and dripping, though.

There was no longer any certain path, what little road there was got obliterated by the weather. The group drove under the cover of the forest, somewhat alleviating the cold and the saturation…

…when night finally fell, with only lightning for illumination and sodden branches for shelter, they found succour at the dusty ruins of an abandoned homestead. Knocking and calling out proved fruitless, there was no light in the window and nobody stopped them as they entered through a creaking door. The brickwork smelled of mold, but was still, for the most part, solid. The thatching and second floor had partly given way, but it was nothing tarps and decent division of space couldn’t help. There was even a good stock of dry wood near the fireplace...

…just as the first spark was struck, thunder crashed in the storm outside. In that moment’s ghastly light, there suddenly appeared a corpse in the nearby rocking chair, grinning down at Walkers who’d been bent over with a flintknocker. Elanor screamed in shock and fright, calming down abashedly and muttering prayers on realizing that must have been only the body of the previous homeowner.

The dead man, desiccated, eyeless and rattling in his skin, stared at everybody from the dim corner they had relegated him to as they hunkered near the fireplace for warmth. There was a faded leather-bound book in his hand, a copy of the Das Walpurgisnacht by Herr Fyodor Rost. That was all that was legible of the dead man’s book--- the pages themselves were either matted together by water damage or the ink was severely run.

Seeing the book had reminded Deran of something that had been taken from the bandit camp--- a leather-wrapped journal. It was written by one Falgrim Sneeg, a disgraced scribe who’d taken to merc-work and eventually been assigned as the quartermaster of Captain Kesten Garess’ unit. He took his chance one day, took his embezzled money as well as the coin that would have been the guardsmen’s salary and fled into the Stolen Land. Asking the ex-bandits about him, it seems he was a portly man who favoured armour and a crossbow--- one of those who fell to Walters’ spear-work.

Dinner was a quiet affair of jerky and dried fruits and rainwater. Deran tried his hand yet again at comedy but quickly took the hint after the third joke that met with storm-wracked thunder. Vasili told folktales from guileful heroes cheating death and had most smiles and laughter in his crowd. Nearing midnight, Tess took the floor, a rich, earthy voice singing a somber solemnity from her native Issia, a song that set people’s breath on edge, their hair trembling, their bones seeming to warm with a warmth as unfathomable as its words. Those slated to be on watch had to excuse themselves with a shudder and couldn’t help but look back.

And all the while, the apostate Iames had found a dark corner in which to huddle and shudder and mutter away a stream of vile rambling and cursing as he weathered through his withdrawal. Or tried to.

Or so it seemed.

Sometime between dawn and midnight, during a lull in the storm, there was a sudden hissing through the air. Somebody screamed of arrows and ambush even as another volley slashed in and those in the homestead were scrambling for cover and for weapons. Grunts and groans, crashes and curses filled the air. Chittering voices and flapping feet skittered along the floor.

Vasili’s gun boomed. The shot missed wide, going off into the night but in the brief muzzle-flare, half a dozen grimy goblins throwing their hands up against the light and noise. A couple of them were cackling and clinging tenaciously to Walters’ neck and legs while the big man writhed and flailed like a bound behemoth. Two laughed at the captives and sang of the true agonies of goblin slavery and set upon Elanore who had been the other one on watch-duty. The other two went to work on the other still-sleeping, still-groggy warriors, one thrusting again and again at Walker who desperately blocked with his bare arms, the other practically screeched with delight at finding a seemingly still-sleeping elf and leapt with glee, its barbed halberd screaming down in a two-handed grip.

The former seminarian managed to send one arm flying off into a dark corner before her assailant’s mates swarmed over her, stabbing and slashing with their jagged knives, some blows finding mail and some finding flesh. Dhovanu suddenly flowed, dancing aside in a swirl of cloak, the goblin horsechopper crashed on stone in a shower of sparks, flakes of flint and pig-iron bursting from the impact. Fluidly nocking a shaft, she sent her attacker reeling from an arrow to the eye, stumbling backwards a few steps, halberd whirling, then fell over, dead.

Armed with only boots and blade, Jax rumbled awake, kicked off the goblin straddling Elanor’s chest, stabbing madly for her desperately dodging face--- then he lunged, chopping with one of Kressle’s hatchets, beheading the grinning goblin that had been sitting, pinning down the priestess’ arms. Quray the hawk screeched as she took off, pinions pounding the air, seized the gasping goblin that had clung to Walters’ neck despite the soldier smashing it against a wall--- then dropped her prey just as her mistress loosed, pinning its ragged shield to its scrawny arm. Vasili stumbled back, foetid breath and rancid spittle flecking his face as a needle-fanged maw gnashed up at him, his unloaded pistol and leather vambraces barely fending off the amber-eyed goblin’s filth-encrusted raking claws, then it gasped, choking as it spasmed around Tess’ blade protruding from its lean-corded chest. The remaining goblins scrambled back and away, vanishing into the night right as Elanor’s powerful prayer rekindled the embers in the fireplace into a brief inferno. The last that the group saw of them were wisps of rags and leather on a wave-crest of grey, wolvish fur, dissolving into the forest.

Little to no sleep was had for the remainder of that night as they remained vigilant for further attack and treated their wounded. Carlito took couple of arrows to his shoulder and back as he used his greater bulk to shield the other captives. Sam took an arrow to the thigh while coming to the bigger man’s aid, armed with only his shackles and a fire-poker. Iames, however, had froth matting his scraggly beard and his dead eyes ran with dried tears. Of the explorers, the morning light gave them a bit of relief to see that their injuries were merely minor cuts and bruises.

He and the dead homesteader were buried in a quiet ceremony opened by Elanor and closed by Deran. None of the other former bandits mourned the dead apostate.

Setting off after a breakfast that exhausted their supply of eggs, they navigated by the rough position of the sun in an overcast sky, trudging steadily northward. As the day wore on, the wind began to turn and by the time Sarenrae had reached her zenith in the sky, they found patches of fluffy white and blue above them, the sun’s warm glow seeming to ease away the cold and fear of the previous day.

They come upon a gully practically overflowing with berry bushes. Nearby was a cool, clear pond that fed a babbling brook. A flight of scintillating-winged dragonflies buzzed around a bank of swaying rushes.

Seeing nothing amiss, the party sat themselves down to enjoy a sunny lunch. Sam and Jorge cook up a picnic lunch of wild berries, stewed watercress and roast trout, as well as a couple of roast coneys that Jax and Dhovanu shot. Barriers broken down, it was a quiet yet merry afternoon, with jests and smiles as common fare.

There was no sunset yet again that evening, the grey weather having returned. Wind chilled their bones and a thick, cloying fog set in. Still, they felt confident enough, for according to some plotting based on wind and landmarks, they were less than a shift’s marching away from Oleg’s already.

But night was come, the darkness as choking as the mist.

A trench was dug around a pair of great spreading oaks, torch-posts erected and set ablaze. They settled down for the night in doubled-up tents and blankets, with doubled watch duty.

Some of them, some of them dreamt. Deran dreamt of a farm where all the grainstalks were hissing serpents and all the mud was smoking, corrosive venom. Vasili had a vivid dream of Tess, only to wake when his dream peeled off her skin, extruded claws of bone and slavered for his blood. Walker dreamt of floating down a grey river on a black boat, the sky a pulsating rainbow. Walter dreamt he was scratching a long, thick white beard and bouncing grandkids on his knees, the sounds and scent of home and hearth beside him. Elanor dreamt of white marble halls, golden sunlight and a piping hot creamy lasagna.

And then the screams came. Through the mist, in the distance, muffled yet clear. Screams of terror, of pain, of death. With them were interspersed the baying of wolves. The former bandits are spooked but steady, asking for weapons, saying that they could help.


Perception DC 14

The howls and screams are coming from THATTAWAY. Easy enough to track. Not too far away. Incidentally, it is in the same direction as Oleg’s.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili was already awake when the howls and screams started. He had jumped up awake from his nightmare, covered in sweat and a somewhat obvious elevation in his breeches. The former induced by the shape-shifting, the latter by what preceded it in his dreams. He couldn't get himself to sleep anymore, so he had relieved Deran from the watch and sat down by the fire, trying to think of something else than what Tessalonika had been wearing in the dream - or rather, what she hadn't.

When the howls came, he kicked the nearest tent, knowing that the grinning warrior probably wasn't that far asleep yet.

"Deran. Deran! Damn your eyes, man, wake up!" he hissed, already loading his firearm as he tried to listen to the frightful sounds.

Perception: [roll0]

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran had gone to sleep rather subdued. Not that he would let something as mundane as dreary weather, endless interrogations and random attacks bother him. Oh no. It was just that he was hoping Oleg's post was nearer.

Vasili 's relief was welcome and Deran was happy to get out of armor. He sunk into a restless sleep. He woke up when the field he was roaming, a horrible, desolate place, filled in his mind's eye with screams. It took a while to understand that he was not in fact dreaming and that the screams were real. Vasili 's voice confirmed it.

"I am up, I am up!"

Deran comes out with his chainmail in hand, dressing all the while.

Don hastily, 1 minute, then he will get a horse and check things out. It seems that assistance will not do any good, which I find strange...

"Can you help me don this thing on? Hey, everybody wake up! Walters, Walker, Dhovany, Eleanore, rise and shine! We have guests and I will not be making all the drinks myself! Come on, last one has to clean afterwards!

Bah, my legendary humor is better when I have slept. "

All the while, he dons on the armor only barely strapping things in place, his huge axe planted in front of him and temporarily acting as a clothes stand.

[shugyosha]

Walters

He woke pale and hand balled in fists. Was it the dream or howling that woke? It didn't matter he grabbed his armor and hastily joined the others.

Holding his weapon in white knuckled hands he looks around, waiting for his orders.

[Angstrom]

Waking gently from his dream Walker rises to his feet and peers into the black night sky, quite the contrast compared to his vibrant dream. Things were changing fast. Looking in the direction of Oleg's he grabs his spear and holds it at the ready. It was good that the 'captives' still thought he was a threat with the spear. In truth, just holding the weapon was making him uneasy. 'Captives' that were asking for weapons, joking together at the fireside, and freezing together in the rain; were they still captives?
Action Saint Walker. Danger near the Trading Post.
Walker's heavy leather's, discarded in a wet pile next to his tent, remain where they lie though he grabs his collection of weathered bark etchings. Moving to where Deran and Vasili are readying their gear, he rubs his forearms where the goblin's blade had cut into him. The wounds had closed fast thanks to Elanore's quick action, but unlike Deran or Carlito, there was only faint scarring. The voices had paid his wounds special attention. Healing his hurt quickly and without lasting damage. The thenar muscles could have been permanently damaged, but the spirits had knitted him up well and good. Or at least they claimed it had been them.
It was, Saint Walker. You still have a long way to go. Be thankful for your magic, it will help you again before the day is through.
"Its comin' from Oleg's. How far off d'you reckon? See, I don't know aboot you two, but sounds to me like we get on the horses and ride good and fast to Oleg's, make sure they're all hunky-dory."
Ride fast Saint Walker
Moving towards the horses, Walker seeks to calm down any frightened by the howling. "Dhovanu, can I get some help with these saddles. Don't know how much time we have, but it can't be far to ride. If you, Gendry, and Winter stay with the camp, do you think you'll be able to protect everyone if whatever's out there comes callin'?"

If I recall, we have horses for every party member, with only Ged's being killed in the skirmish. Anyone for charging off into the night like heroes?

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Deran, there's people getting killed out there as we speak. We need to know what's happening. Sam!" Vasili barked at "Sister Whore", suddenly finding the same tone of voice that Gennadi had used when things needed to be done fast. "Get in here and help Deran in his armor. Dhovanu, you're with me. We're the most quiet ones in this bunch, we need to go and scout ahead."

"Walters... arms for Tess and Jax. The brothers, maybe. But not him", Vasili added, nodding towards Guthialyn. Ever since the half-elf had admitted to fratricide, the redheaded frontiersman had taken a deep disliking to the man.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Still hastily getting into armor, Deran looks up.

"No arms yet, Vasili. Everybody will stay tight as we investigate. Good idea that you and Dhovanu leave right away, but don't do anything foolish. This is why I am here, it is part of my ...vocation. Go scout and we are right behind you.

Winters, you stay here. If any hostiles approach, arm Tess and Jax. They will help out."

Then, at Walker:

"Hey big man with the pointy stick. Wanna get ready for the dinner party? Put on your best steel, we are late!"

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"If you hear me fire... then you will know if I have done something foolish", the young frontiersman answered with a wolfish grin. He was no paladin, but he wouldn't stand idly by if innocents were being assaulted. His gun on his belt, and a bow and arrow in his arms he bolted into the underbrush.

Stealth roll: [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili didn't get very far in the dark, following the voices, when something in those horrid screams rubbed him the wrong way. They sounded... practiced. False. Like one of those travelling actors pretending to be angered or in love or joyful. Or like that bird he had once seen as a child in Daggermark: a bird that could talk, or at least repeat two phrases for biscuits. The sound it made sounded like talking, but there was no intellect behind it.

"This is wrong... I do not think that's a human voice. Or elven for that matter", he whispered to Dhovanu and any others who had joined him for the recon. "Hey Dhov, do you know any... thing around these parts that can mimic human sounds?"

For Vasili:
Knowledge (Local) [roll0] - in case he's heard stories of such critters.
Knowledge (Nature) untrained [roll1]

For Dhovanu:
Knowledge (Nature) [roll2]
Knowledge (Local) untrained [roll3]

[Angstrom]

"Be careful Winter" Walker calls as he races into the bush after the two scouts. Slowing down when he reaches them, he pauses and listens intently to the noises in the night.
Be alert Saint Walker
The voices use Guidance on all the skill checks.
Stealth: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]
K:Nature [roll2]
K:Local [roll3]

[shugyosha]

Walters

The large man grabs a few weapons, ready to hand it to the prisoner if need be.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran was still dressing as suddenly his hands twitch, a spasm crossing his face. He could feel it again. The presence, the wrongness, the taste of deeds unforgivable, the lingering aura of actions that have burdened the world. His brain catches up, as the realization of what he hears penetrates to his mind.

"Everybody stop. Please stop. There is something wrong here. The voice is fake. I think we are being lured.

Vasili wait. Let me get dressed up. I don't think anyone is truly in need."

The young paladin smiles a naughty smile.

"I think that a trap is the best place to walk to be, if you know it is a trap. Why don't the gifted in silence among us walk around to the screams, unseen and from the flank? While me, big man Walters over there and perhaps Eleanore ride heads on, unsuspecting big brutes as we are, straight to the place we are being invited? And crash the party there to smithereens?"

[Frivolous]

Elanore Dulac


As she gets dressed, puts on armor and arms, and collects her gear, Ela comments, "It does sound fake to me, too."

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili and the others had not gotten far before the sense of falseness in those screams had alerted him. So it took only a small while for them to return and hear Deran's words.

"Your ears don't play you false, friend. But I am unsure as to what manner of... creature could do that. It is not human, of that I'm sure. Let us know when you are ready. Myself, Dhovanu and Walker can try this your way", he said before checking his ammo pouch.

"One in the barrel, four in the pouch", he muttered to himself. "Best make them count, then..."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"This is what I suggest. Give me, Walters and Elanore the horses. You, Walker and Dhovanu go around the noise, flanking it. We will go straight to it. Whatever that is, it will believe its trap worked. But we will be ready. When it shows itself, you flank it from a distance.

So, you go, we give you an initial start, say 100 count, and we move into the source of the screams. How about it?"

With that, Deran straps on the final piece.

"If it wasn't for the fact I look divinely handsome in armor, I would have been a ranger, I swear."

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"And our travelling companions? Hey, Jax! Think you can hold the fort with Gendry until we clear the path?" Vasili asked, turning to look at the riverman - the only one of the bandits that was allowed to carry his arms in the open. Though Vasili had suggested to Deran that Tessalonika, too, could be trusted with her weapons. That she had skewered the goblin and not him in the heat of battle meant a good deal to the young frontiersman.

[Angstrom]

"Right, let's go."

Crouching in the darkness, Walker let's Dhovanu lead the way hoping her elven eyes will be better able to pierce the night.

Guidancing these checks
Stealth:[roll0]
Perception: [roll1]

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Very well, let's", Vasili nodded and followed Dhovanu and Walker into the woods, to flank... whatever it was that was trying to beckon them closer.



Rollin', rollin', rollin'...

Vasili:
Stealth [roll0] (I still can't believe this isn't a class skill for gunslingers...)
Perception [roll1]

Dhovanu:
Stealth [roll2] and leading the group. Do Walker and I get any circumstance bonuses if Dhovanu, with her high Stealth and elven eyes, helps navigate us half-blind humans through the underbrush?
Perception [roll3]

[shugyosha]

Walters

Something nags in the back of his head, what if the noise is to draw us away, he thinks.

Shrugging off his doubts the large man nods at the plan of action and is ready to move out.

[Miraqariftsky]

Twenty beats...

The forward party dissolve into the vast forest's undergrowth, becoming one with mist and muck, shadow and shrub.

At the camp, the others wait. The pudgy Gendry wipes nervous sweat off his brow, cranking up a crossbow as he crouches behind the driver's couch. Clad incongruously in a frilled shift yet bearing it gracefully, the former noble's son Sam gives Deran's armour a final once-over before stepping back and flashing the young paladin a brief smile then frowning as she resists the urge to scratch at her bandaged arrow-wound. Jax, meanwhile, gives Tess a rueful shrug as he clutches his pike and pats the hatchet in his belt. Winters simply scowls and nods, breathing shallowly.

Fifty beats...

Creeping through the shadows, making quiet dashes from cover to cover, Walker, Vasili and Dhovanu make good progress. Their weapon-shafts as simply branches on the breeze, their cloaks mere ripples of dun-weave, their armour as bark or soot-stained mail.

The two brothers crouch in the lee-side of the cart, tense-knuckled. Jorge tries to distract himself by tossing and catching, tossing and catching a pebble. Sam mutters a prayer. Tess glares, peering into the darkness after the forward party, rubbing at her shackled wrists. The half-faced Guthialyn snorts, jangles at his crotch and asks if he could go for a piss but Jax merely tells him to shove it and wait.

Eighty beats...

Dhovanu suddenly calls for a halt with her raised fist. Walker stops readily, but Vasili has to be caught by his scruff. The elven ranger puts a finger to her lips, then taps her nose, points at her eyes, then points into the middle distance.

There is a small sward, a clearing amidst the woods where a great tree must have fallen some time ago. At the stump is a humanoid form, clad in leathers, with a longbow close at hand. Two huge wolves, larger than horses, their backs seemingly rippling with mutated bulk, snap at each other, then paw and rip on the limp figure as it whimpers and moans.

Meanwhile, Guthialyn has grown far too irritably pissy and Jaxon relents, but only lets him piss on a nearby tree.

A hundred beats...

Dhovanu stops behind a shrubbery and nocks an arrow, Walker taking position close by her to support the ranger with his spear. She nods farther down the wood at Vasili, gesturing for him to creep farther on where hopefully his gun's boom will inspire more terror in their foes' rearward quarter.

When Vasili rounds the bend around a sprawling, gnarled oak, he suddenly comes face to face, or rather, nose to fang with a needle-mawed goblin flapping its hands about, seemingly as surprised as he is. Beyond the creature's splay-footed perch on one of the great roots, five more of the little buggers squirm in surprise, their foliage-covered cloaks and shields disturbed in their shock.


Yep. YEP. They're that bit more surprised than y'all, though. So, surprise round, whoop-de-friggen-doo.

Elanore clucks the count. Deran nods and Walters snorts. They spur their horses on and gallop through the mists towards their counter-ambush.


Concentrating on making noise or getting there? If the latter and yer making all speed, then ye need DC 14 Ride checks to not get yer horse's hooves caught in gullies or pits or roots. That's got a +5 bonus, if a DC 15 Perception is successful. If the former, well, y'all then able to navigate easily enough, but will get to the clearing on the next turn.

A hundred and ten beats...

Jax cracks at Guthialyn, "Look. Yer wee fellah's too shy an' too cold right the frigg now, so get back there an' sit yer ass down."

"Piss off." he simply says.

"'Sbeen too long, frigger. Get back there, now. Don't make me make ye."

"Yeah? Who's got the oar up his arse an' strings on 'is wrists? Piss the frak off!"

With that final taunt, Jax growled and moved to bodily drag Guthialyn back to the cart. Right then, he turned and released a stream of urine right at the pikeman's face, causing him to stumble back, spitting and cursing, stabbing blindly with his spear...

...only to be disarmed by the chains on the manacles of the scarred murderer. He ducks the stones that the other captives hurl at him, chokes up on his awkward grip and trips Tess as she lunges at him with a doubled-up pair of fists, then clouts Jax with the haft as he still struggles to correct his grip. Gendry's quarrel strikes him square in the right shoulder and he retaliates with a desperate throw of Jax' pike, then sprints off into the wilderness. The spear, though badly thrown, hits both Gendry and Winters, knocking them both off the cart and into the mud.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili offered an angry curse at himself, walking right into the mess of things like a complete idiot. As he instinctively lifted his Alkenstar-made weapon and fired, his mind recalled something that Gennadi had once said: No plan survives first contact. Whether with an enemy or with a girl.

How right you were, father. How right you were, the frontiersman considered to himself as his gun issued its rapport, right in the goblin's needle-toothed kisser. Not stopping to see what kind of damage his gun had made, Vasili started retreating, his hand reaching for his nigh-depleted ammo pouch and powderhorn.

"GOBLINS!" he yelled out to his comrades, hoping to get some distance between himself and the goblins. Kressle's axe through his gut was bad enough; he felt no desire to feel the rusty blades of these bubble-headed monstrosities for comparison's sake.

Initiative: [roll0]


Spend a grit point for Up Close and Deadly. Extra damage on a hit, half that on a miss.

Attack (at close range, so resolved against touch AC): [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]
Extra damage: [roll3] - miss halves.

Move action to get out of melee range with the gobbos.

[shugyosha]

Walters

At first the large man takes his horse at a leisurely, until he hears the call of goblins. Spurring his horse forward.


[roll0] Perception
[roll1] Ride

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran was up on the saddle, very quickly after he dressed up. He hadn't fought on horseback in a while. What old man Talos would have to say on that.

This was the worst part. Waiting. Deran patted his horse, restless as it was from the noises. Counting the last beats, he says to the others.

"All that night fighting will mess up my fine toned skin. I believe I am ready to take up my complaints on the matter with out noisy neighbors"

Deran spurs his horse onwards, not caring about being noisy, but taking care to stay near the others.

Perception [roll0]
Riding [roll1]


However, his horse 's footing becomes treacherous after a while. Deran leaves out a sign as he is forced to go slower.

'By the rusty underwear of Gorum, I think I am getting a dragon for a mount. But with my luck, he will also get entangled in a cloud!"

It is clear by now that in this campaign, Deran will always underperform near Walters.

[Angstrom]

Goblins! This is bad.
Your partner has seen the true nature of things
Did that mean Vasili was in trouble? Not once a straight answer from them. Constant lecturing from within his own skull and never anything useful.

Making eye contact with Dhovanu, he points in the direction of Vasili then two fingers to his eyes then the wolves. Peeking to see if the wolves flee the noise from Vasili's thunderstick, Walker raises himself into a ready stance in the undergrowth.

Walker and Dhovanu will move towards Vasili while trying to remain hidden from the wolves. If the wolves move towards Vasili Dhovanu will shoot and Walker will ready his spear against a charge. If the wolves flee, they'll try to cut through the brush in support of Vasili.

W Stealth: [roll0] Ouch, well Walker's partner may need to show up earlier than expected.
W Perception: [roll1]

D Stealth: [roll2]
D Perception: [roll3]

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran hears the commotion and Vassili 's voice. He urges the horse onwards.

Damn! There goes the plan.

'Hey up there, wait for us! We are coming for the party!'

His superior eyes scanning the both the ground and the general direction, Deran will go for the first enemy he can identify.

Not sure what that would be. What is that about wolves?

[Frivolous]

Elanore Dulac


Elanore prepares to accompany the others in aiding the forward party.

[Miraqariftsky]

Quicker to the draw than his counterpart, Vasili’s pistol booms and obliterates the head of the goblin frantically waving its arms to warn its comrades as well as regain its balance. Hot blood, broken bits of bone and brain-matter shower the young frontiersman’s face as well as spatter the rest of its squad--- one of whom is squealing in agony, clapping a grubby hand to a spurting shoulder-stump. The other goblins look from their now-headless comrade, slumped over its slayer, to the one who’d been maimed, to the smoking bullet-hole in the bole of the oak and throw off their ambush-cloaks and flee into the depths of the forest, squealing like stuck pigs.

At Vasili’s shot and shout and the clanking, stumbling charge of Deran and company, while trying to get into a better defensive position in front of Dhovanu, Walker unknowingly stepped on a large pile of squelching dung, prompting an involuntary curse. The beast-things in the clearing suddenly cease their charade and howl enough to shake trees and mist alike.

Two wolves burst out of the foliage in front of the party’s armoured contingent… two wolves larger than the horses that they ride. Their crooked legs easily clutching the beasts’ backs, two goblin warriors apiece heft their spears and shields and bows.

The larger growls and bounds ahead, launching itself at Deran, great jaws clamping around the paladin’s midriff, wrenching him this way and that and tearing him from the saddle. The horse rears and flails in panic both at the attack on its rider and the two goblins snapping and whacking at its face, dumping both predator and paladin on the ground, then bolts.

Reacting from sheer reflex, Walters brings his family’s fauchard to bear, aiming for its throat but his stroke is fouled and merely rakes a deep gash across its flank when the goblin lancer strikes him first, flint point skittering off his mail only to bury itself deep in the man’s right thigh. The rearward goblin, deeming that whatever sorcerer had scattered their backup was worthy of attention, loosed a blind arrow in Vasili’s direction… winging him in the left arm. Still concealed in the shadows and shrubberies, Dhovanu slowly stands, traces the foe’s shot and releases her arrow in that direction…

The worg still mauling Deran, pounding his arms and torso with heavy claws, ripping at his arms and face with its massive maw, then pauses and growls in the tongue of men, “You REEK of godsblood, longshanks! What a feast shall you be!”

…and then its head rocks back, an elven arrowhead and fletching sprouting from both its eyes, blood dripping from both ends. It then collapses on top of the paladin, a great dead weight of wet fur, bleeding meat and fleas. And at least two angry goblins snarling, snapping and dismounting.

Sensing that his friend might still be in need, Walker scrambles from cover towards Vasili and finds his face utterly dripping with goblin gore. Amidst the clearing, the eldritch spearman senses something else, something calling out to him, something within the human corpse sprawled over a log…

Meanwhile, the other worg-team follows up on the other side of the adventurers’ armoured formation, but with far less success as the hooves of Elanore’s desperate steed connect with the beast’s nose, stunning it and disrupting its charge, sending it sprawling. Its lancer tries to strike at the priestess even as he goes down in a tumble, but she lashes out with her buckler, smashing the goblin’s face and causing its spear to sink into the soil… whereon its momentum catapults it screaming into the treetops. The rearward archer in a show of agility, leaps off the collapsing mount and looses an arrow in midair, then rolls to safety amidst the grass, grinning as he sees the robed human reel from a bodkin in her forearm.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran does not have the time to even get angry that yet again he is caught unprepared, in an ambush he knew was there. He sees the fiendish wolf, he sees the goblin riders but he is a fraction too late. Great fangs rip apart his recently mended wounds, as the wolf throws him off the saddle. And then dies on him.

Str check [roll0]

EDIT:I was sure that I would not make it.

He struggles to get the dead weight off him, but his hands are dripping with blood, his own and the wolves. Red and black, mingling in the dirt. But he would be damned if he would let that deter him. He looks at the goblins, a smile full of coughed blood on his lips

"You better hope I do not die. Because, I will hunt you in the next world as well"

With that, he takes out a dagger out of his belt, ready to throw it to the nearest goblin

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

The sudden arrow out of the blue, followed by a meaty thud in his upper arm and Vasili grunted in pain. Father's horns, that smarts! the frontiersman cursed in his head as he looked at the poorly-fletched excuse of an arrow sticking out of his arm. Just my luck... wait, how did they do that? Why aren't they singing? Goblins always sing!

"Walker... go help the others. Now. I'll deal with the one that took a glancing shot", Vasili hissed as he felt the arrow move in his flesh, blood dripping down his arm as he managed to load his pistol. Fine piece of leather my aching ass, he kept cursing in his head as he leveled his gun at the goblin clutching what was left of its arm. Giving a whistle, Vasili caught the ugly little thing's attention. The barrel of the gun aiming at its head, Vasili pulled the hammer back with his thumb. "Run. Or die. Your call", he hissed, hoping that the goblin's melon of a head contained enough sense that it would up and run - if the ugly runt even spoke Common to begin with. Vasili did not want to waste a shot at the critter if he was no longer a threat.

If the goblin attacks, Vasili spends the grit point he gained front shooting the first goblin for Up Close and Deadly.

Attack against touch AC: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Extra damage: [roll2] - halved on a miss.

If the goblin runs, he will turn and get within twenty feet of the other combatants, using the undergrowth as cover when necessary (and preferably as close to Dhovanu as he can). If he is already within twenty feet of the other fight, he uses the Up Close and Deadly at the nearest hostile. Apply -4 for shooting into melee as necessary.

While Vasili was putting his faith in a goblin having the tiniest inkling of common sense - a bet that would make even the most debonair gambler think twice - Dhovanu spoke a command in Elven, then nocked a new arrow. Two projectiles flew through the air, one of the fletched variety, seeking to give the archer that had wounded Elanore a piercing through the brain pan; the other a screaching comet of brown feathers and razor-sharp talons as Quray swooped down to harry the other archer before taking up in the air again.

Dhovanu and her longbow (move to be within twenty feet of the target if outside that range):
[roll3]
Damage: [roll4]

Quray, with bite and two talons:
Bite: [roll5]
Damage: [roll6]

Talon 1: [roll7]
Damage: [roll8]

Talon 2: [roll9]
Damage: [roll10]

[North_Ranger]

Rolling to confirm Quray's critical on the bite attack: [roll0]

[Frivolous]

Elanore Dulac


Ela urges her horse towards where Walters fell. As she rides, she screams, "Shield me while I help Walters!"

As soon as she can, she dismounts, putting her horse between herself and any attackers, and prepares to cure Walters by shattering her Bane spell and using the resultant energy to shore up fighter's life.

Actions
I doubt that Ela can ride to Walters, dismount, and cast Cure Light Wounds in one round. Sounds like a move action to get to Walters and another move action to dismount.

However, in case it is possible, here is Ela's roll in advance for spontaneous CLW, using the Bane spell. Please use it whether or not she casts CLW this round or the next.

Cure Light Wounds: [roll0]

In case it matters, it would be much easier to use Channel Energy to cure Walters. The problem is, it would also cure everything within 30 feet. :smallsmile:

[shugyosha]

Walters

The pain in his thigh brought darkness to him. He slumped over in his saddle until Elanore's restorative touch brought him back. "Thank you," he whispered horsely.

He pulled his horse around to cover her. Walters was not going to leave her in the chaos of battle. He will, however, attack any nearby targets that get close enough to him that would pose a threat to either of them.


I don't think you need to dismount as Walters is on horse back.

[Angstrom]

Walker recoils at the sight of Vasili. The grim voice coming from the gore-drenched youth spins him round as he tries to reverse his footing. The spin nearly causes him to fall, as his spear collides with a sapling and sends him recoiling. Watching Deran fall, Elanore get shot, and Walters stabbed, Walker panics. Dropping the weapon, heart pounding in his ears, he dives into the brush. If ever there was a time I need you, this is it. Help them. Please.
Do not fear, Saint Walker. We have provided.

Dive for cover, Fortune Hex on Deran. He can reroll any ability check, attack roll, or save in his next round.

[Miraqariftsky]

The reek of death and mange and fleas almost overpowers Deran’s mortal nose even as he struggles in vain to heave off the dead weight of the worg on top of him. His head spinning from his fall, he vaguely hears the goblins’ screeching.

“Nah sah tahh an’ migghhy naah, entcheh, lawngshaynks?!”
“Dyyyye, hawse! DIIIIIIIEEEEEE!”

Helmed with a giant rat’s skull and coiffed with scalemail, the dismounted goblin lancer rushes at his downed foe and rushes at Deran with its splintered lance-haft. The paladin feels his right shoulder go numb with pain but he fights through, rips out his dagger and lays the goblin warrior low, cutting through both knees in one blow, sending it thrashing into the earth.

Fighting through the pain of the filthy goblin arrow in her own forearm, Elanore rushes to her fire-forged friend, her fervent prayer to the Dawnflower bearing swift fruit. She feels a brief moment of heat as she lays her hand on Walters’ wound. It bleeds anew as she tugs the broken lancetip free, then ceases, the femoral artery repaired as well as the ripping of the spearman’s hip. Though he still bleeds and his vision swims, he is no longer in as dire straits as he was before.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the sward, near-overwhelmed with the chaos of battle, Walkers reels from tree to shrubbery, rough bark and brambles raking at his face. His spear forgotten, he crawls through the brush, heedless of everything…

…he finally comes up against a good, solid log, with a looming boulder beside it to hide behind. Panting, gasping, the niggling feeling at the back of his mind is pushed back as a death-reek worse than the gore plastering Vasili’s face assaults the young alchemist’s nostrils. Something smelling like the bastard of an abbatoir and an eviscerated sepulchre…

At Walkers’ right hand, an eyeless, lipless woman grins up at him, empty sockets glaring. Her neck seems to have been violently ripped apart, then mashed back onto her torso, with thick vine-thread crudely stitching the corpse together not just there but the limbs and the midsection as well--- but the latter part is partly covered with a partly decayed cotton tunic and studded leather cuirass.

Suddenly, the corpse’s belly ripples. The dead chest heaves and bulges. The bony jaw champs and wags wildly…
…then pops off as a gore-drenched fox’ face pops out of the neck-hole, panting and looking at Walkers with tilted gaze, black ears twitching.

Dhovanu’s thin lips spew a musical stream of vile Elven cursing when her arrow merely clips the lizard-skull set atop her target’s woven helm. The goblin archer beside her target sneers and takes a bead on her only for Quray to dart in from the side, hauling the little raider into the sky, then letting go, letting her prey shrill and scream and scrunch into the ground far below.

Meanwhile, the bungled warg picks itself up, shakes its dizzy head and snarls. It looks from side to the other, raises its haunches, paws at the ground, growling in the tongue of men, “We’ll meet again, longshanks! By the Devourer’s maw, we’ll meet again!” It then turns tail and bolts for the deeper woods, reeling and bleeding from another slash from Walters but soon enough dissolving into the deeper darkness of the forest.

And then the elven ranger yells a warning, “Take cover!”

Vasili spots what his mostly-deadeye comrade had heard--- a line of flickering lights beyond the brush on the other side of the clearing. Whistling through the trees, a flight of arrows strikes in a line across the adventurers’ path…

…then clinking and bursting as the lay vials tied to the arrowheads explode, spattering the nearby foliage and fighters with liquid flames while goblin voices sing in the distance. “Yaaaaajjjjj! Yaj zerahagh! Dar yaaaaaj! Dar yaj! Dar ergh! Dar yaj! Dar WAAAAAGGGH! Yaaaaaaajjjjj! Dar yaj! YAAAAAJJJJ! Shra khuul WAAAAAGH! Dar yaaaaaaj!”

And then, behind the adventuerers comes several large shadows, a-crashing and a-neighing and a-yelling. “We’re coming, hold on, dammit! Gorum’s balls, who set the woods ablaze?!”


[roll0] flame damage
Reflex saves halve.

Also? Er, sorry for failing to have “singsong goblins”.

Annnnnd don’t worry. Concerted dirt-kicking and earth-shoveling should put out the fire soon enough.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

With the one-armed goblin apparently deciding to run, it was now Vasili's turn to duck and jump as the rain of fire arrows pelted the woods and set the dry underbrush aflame.

"By the gods, I HATE goblins!" the young frontiersman cursed as he made his way to the clearing, his fur-rimmed hat smoldering from the light kiss from a glancing arrow. Pulling the piece of headwear off his red hair, he slapped it a few times against his thigh, cursing at the pain throbbing from his arm - or more precisely, the arrow still piercing it.

"Jax? Is that you, riverman?" he called out to the approaching figures as he rushed over to Deran. Careful not to use his arm, he pressed his back against the haunch of the dead wolf and pushed with all his might. "Stop wondering about divine testicles and help me!"

Strength check, for what it's worth [roll0]

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran is on the edge of consciousness. His vision ebbs and flows, and again reality is a transparent thing. His will is the only thing that keeping his consciousness in this world. His senses have given up some minutes ago, with the throw of that dagger. Now, his world consists of the stench of the worg and goblin guts, from the noise of the battle and the curious hot and cold sensation of the mud. He can feel his blood.

"What have I done wrong? Twice I have fought and twice I have fallen. My Gods, what have I done wrong? Am I not worthy to be your sword?

You know, my Sovereigns. You know my heart. It is not pride that makes me act so. It is fear. I try to be worthy of your trust. And yet I fail. What have I done wrong?"

Deran tries to sigh. He is slipping again. He can feel the marbles of the Citadel in his back. He has been defeated again. He can feel his opponent leaving and him sprawling on the floor of the fighting ring.

"This is not right. I am not there, I am in the Stolen Lands..."


He tries to stand up, but his opponent has left him in a pool of his own blood and is now leering with his other noble paladin friends. Any time now, the healers will come. Something is screaming in his mind "This is not right, I am not in the Citadel, I am in the Stolen lands!"

And now old man Talos is there. Deran gives him his hand to help him climb on his feet, but Talos does not take it. He is looking at Deran, his huge eyebrows frowning.

"Master, I have failed you. I was beaten."

Deran coughs blood. Where are the healers?

"Not yet, you have not failed. But you are close. Tell me, young Deran, what is a paladin 's duty?"

Oh Gods, a lesson again! While he is coughing blood!

"Master, I cannot..."

" Squire Deran, answer my question! What is a paladin 's duty?" The battlefield voice thunders through the hall. All conversation has stopped. They are all looking at him, now, bleeding on the marble floor.

"To be the mortal sword... of the Gods in this plane... master"

"You are failing me, Deran. I have taught you better. Again, I ask. What is a paladin 's duty?"

And Deran sees, beneath his master 's shoulders, Them. He sees Their hallos, their sad smiles, their auras. He sees his opponent, leering still, getting a splinter in his hand instead of healing. Deran had broken his hand after all, the bastard 's. He knew that hit had connected. And now, Deran knows.

"The duty of a paladin... is to keep trying... Master. To believe... that his will... is enough... to change ... the world."

"That is so, young Deran. You have not failed me yet. You won this contest. You kept trying, even when he was clearly better. You broke his hand when he had you down. You tried until you bled to defeat. That is a paladin 's duty.
Rise, sir Paladin."

And healing, sweet merciful healing flooded his wounds.

The smell of the worg. The goblin, gutted beside him. And the same internal glow, coming from him, Deran, his wounds bleeding a bit less, his pain a bit less excruciating. He can feel Them. He now knows.

Deran gained a level and can Lay on Hands now! That was how and why. I hope it was nice. Just for the effect the first LH on himself.
[roll0]

And Vasili, throwing the wolf off with a mighty strain on his muscles, looking worried. Impressive how he did it. Deran gives him a weak, triumphant smile. His eyes glow for a moment. And then, the same smirk

"And this is how, Vasili, you kill a goblin with a worg on top of you. I hope you saw it, because I am not doing it again. And stop tossing worgs around. You make me look bad."

Deran climbs on his feet, his weight on his fallen axe.

"And I have got to stop throwing that axe away. It comes handy in these situations."

He sobers.

"Thank you, Vasili. This is the second time. Thank you."

[shugyosha]

Walters

Seeing the goblin threat retreating the stout man dismounts and walks to the others. He was about to make a joke to Deran about liking to be under dead animals but decided against that. Instead he looks around the battlefield.


[roll0] perception

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"And I'm all about making you look bad, Deran", Vasili said with a weak grin as he stepped back, allowing the armored man to get back on his feet. "Still, we are not out of the woods yet. Especially since said woods are on fire", he added as he lifted his arm and grabbed a hold of the wagging arrow sticking out of his biceps. Giving a swift yank, he pulled the makeshift arrow loose, letting out a stream of curses that would have made an orc blush.

"Gods****ing dammit that ****ing hurt like a mother-****ing *****! ****!" the young frontiersman cursed as he ripped his torn shirt sleeve and tried to make a makeshift bandage on his arm, tightening it with his teeth.

Heal check, if need be [roll0]

Once satisfied that he wasn't bleeding out from his arm, Vasili nodded towards the fire. "Come on, let's go stamp those flames out before they will start calling these the Burnt Lands."

[Angstrom]

Saint Walker, meet your guide.
"She's dead."
Yes Saint Walker, but her spirit has chosen to stay and guide you still
Suddenly Walker realizes that he is two feet away from a dead woman and leaps backwards, "Mother 'a mercy." Staring down at the broken body of the woman, he then lets his eyes turn to the small fox rubbing rotted filth and offal onto his boots.
This is Nu, she will guide you forward. She stays for you Saint Walker
"That ain't right." Unable to stop himself, he walks back towards the others, watching the fox follow him back to the group. Nearly tripping again, he sits back in the brush. Nu nuzzles up against his leg, nearly causing him to hurl.
Is this how you thank her Saint Walker? She stays for you.

As the woods burn around him, Walker sits with Nu. Pouring out his waterskin onto her then rubbing her clean with his cloak, he runs over the night in his eyes. A nightmare, that's plausible. Just a bad dream that produced a dead woman, goblins, and now the dead woman's spirit.

"Mercy."

[shugyosha]

Walters

Following Vasili lead Walters uses his faulchard to over turn some earth and smother a few of the fires.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"Jax? Who is this Jax?" the voice from the darkness asked. And as Vasili, Deran and Walters were stamping out the last of the embers, someone from the dark lit up a torch, showing the mysterious speaker. Fire glinted on breastplates and greaves, and the familiar figure of Kesten Garess appeared from the dark, astride his charger. Behind him, a contingent of soldiers on horseback slowly appeared, lances and swords at the ready.

Taking stock of the situation before him, the Issian captain stepped down from his saddle and walked to the clearing. "We heard distant noises at Oleg's Post and rode to investigate - but it seems that you have already dealt with the matter", he spoke, nodding towards the carcasses of the worg and the goblins. "A raiding party, it seems. As if dealing with bandits was not enough", the captain continued and spat on the ground before sheathing his blade. He looked around, a frown forming on his forehead. "Where is your commanding officer? The knight?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran is up and much much better. His smile has something triumphant about it. When Vasili tries to make a makeshift bandage, he stops him.

'Let me. I can do it.'

He pours some clean water into the wound and then he firmly grasps it.

"My Sovereigns, he is worthy. he fights the good fight".

Slowly, the fire within him opens to something bigger and the wound slowly inches smaller.

Lay on Hands [roll0]

When Kesten arrives, Deran has been busy stamping out fires. He gives a smart salute to the knight.

"Ah, I am afraid you missed the party. Next time, we will save you some.

And no, I am not in charge. This is a meritocracy, and so far, I far down in the social ladder.

But we have a lot of things to discuss, sir Knight. And a train of prisoners that we would like to conditionally relinquish in your care. If you would be so kind?"

Deran calms his panicked horse and mounts it, heading towards where they had left the rest of the party.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Thank you, friend", Vasili said with a smile, feeling the pain subside a little. "Don't worry about me, though. I have every intention to keep alive. I mean, someone has to make sure you don't get crushed under the next bitch you decide to let on you", he chuckled, giving the worg carcass a bit of a kick. "Good fur on that thing, though... I have to see if I and Dhovanu can't skin it. Make you a nice fur coat or something out of..."

His voice trails off when Kesten Garess appeared, and the young frontiersman stepped aside, letting Deran deal with the knight and his cavalrymen. "Just remember what we agreed", he whispered before calling Dhovanu over to take a look at the worg.

Survival rolls to skin the worg...
Dhovanu [roll0]
Vasili [roll1]

*****

GM Post

"I appreciate that... but I was talking about the man who originally led your chartered company. Gedriwyn, I believe his name was", Kesten Garess answered as he mounted his own warhorse. "I suppose he is with your prisoners, then, keeping watch?" he asked when his squire rushed to his side. "Tell the men to scour the area for any stragglers. And burn the corpses", he gave his orders before following Deran.

"And prisoners, you say?", Garess continued once they had rode a little while. "Highwaymen, I suppose? If you have no more to ask them, we can introduce them to the gallows. Master Leveton was kind enough to point us to a suitably sturdy tree along the road."

Back at the clearing, Kesten's men were already busy starting to scour the forest around them with torches and weapons at hand, looking for any possible goblins who might be still lurking about. The mangled little corpses were carried to the center of the clearing, and one of the men approached the dead woman from whose corpse Nu was digging its way out. "What's all this, then?" the soldier asked with obvious disgust from Walker, seeing the little critter pawing its way out of the carcass.

[Angstrom]

"What's it look like?" Walker responds, wiping the last of the filth off Nu. "This poor woman's been dead for days, may the Lady of Grave's guide her soul"

Picking up the fox and walking back to where the others are gathered, he leaves his spear lying in the dirt. Seeing Vasili alive and without blood spatter on his face helps undo his tunnel vision, but he is still shaken.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

The soldier mutters something about unnatural things and spits on the ground as Walker stepped aside with his familiar. Nu still reeked of carrion, and she would probably need a good scrubbing to change that, but otherwise the fox seemed to be in good spirits.

The other two soldiers, meanwhile, had piled up the few goblin corpses at the center of the opening, and were busy stripping the dead of whatever few items of value they had. It was a quick and dirty divvy-up, the rough-and-tumble soldiers of fortune stripping the goblins of armor and weapons, pocketing any possible curios or pieces of silver and copper strung up in leather cords.

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili paid little mind to the men as they ransacked the corpses; such was the way of mercenaries, and he had seen his fair share of after-battle looting to know not to interfere. Besides, he had plenty enough to do with skinning the worg's thick, grey fur off its haunches. The meat wouldn't be of much use - damn thing was probably a man-eater - but the fur might fetch a few coins, or make a nice coat for one of them.

As his knife cut past the worg's neck, however, he felt something tugging at his knife. A leather cord, barely visible in the dark, sunken deep into the dead beast's thick fur. "What the...?" the young frontiersman muttered as he trailed the cord with his bloodied fingers, finding something dangling at the worg's neck. A quick cut with the knife produced something peculiar: a tarnished stag's head medallion, similar to the one he had cut off the bandit's neck at Oleg's Post.

"Now this I did not expect..."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran darkens for a moment when Garess asks for the leaders.

"No, even he was not our leader. And will not be in the future. He is dead, killed by the bandits we sought to capture. He fell valiantly.

And now please follow me to our camp. Remember, good sir, the prisoners are still in our jurisdiction by law and custom. We have things to discuss about them before you start gallowing"

[shugyosha]

Walters

Once the last of the embers where put out he started stacking bodies. He didn't know where to bury or burn them but was sure someone would tell him.

When Vasili made a remark the large man walked over and looked at the medallion. "So you think the goblins are in league?"

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"I don't know", Vasili answered as he stood up, Dhovanu finishing up the skinning of the worg. Wiping his hands clean of blood, the young frontiersman dangled the medallion between his fingers, and pulled out the other one from his collar - the one he had taken from the bandit at Oleg's. The two pendants glistened when the pyre was lit, identical save for the spatter of worg-blood on the other. "But I don't believe in accidents, either. I think we need to have words with Tess and the others."

GM Post

Meanwhile...

Kesten didn't get the chance to answer, as the two riders' discussion was interrupted by the sound of arguing from the camp site. Riding closer, they could see that the wagon had been hitched again - and the reins of the donkeys were being hotly contested by Jax the riverman and Gendry the porter.

"Let go of the reins, ya damn lunkhead! You saw the fire, we need to get our asses outta here while we still can!" Jax cursed, looking quite flustered and sporting a nicely forming bruise on his forehead.

"And I say we need to wait! The knight said we should!" Gendry argued back, yanking the reins despite the loud protestations from one of the donkeys. "You want to cut and run like that half-elf, you do it on your own!"

"At least the pointy-eared bastard got out in time. The witch can't throw curses with her throat, and I'm not staying to wait for things to go further south!"

"Well you're not taking the wagon with you, you ass!"

"Who you callin' an ass, ya donkey?!"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

By the time they were back to base, Deran has recovered his questionably humorous self. When they approach, Deran sends a suffering sigh to Kesten.

"Come now kids, calm down and be polite. Father is here and we have guests. Things have been taken care of, with the minor setback that half the forest is on fire, I almost died, and it seems I will be having a worg overcloak soon.

Now, allow me to introduce Sir Kesten, who is in charge of security around here. Which means he is part judge, part jury and part executioner. So please. Be on your best behavior. "

[Angstrom]

Not an accident
"No, definitely not" Walker muses as he arrives next to Vasili and Walters. "Seems the goblins have had this trap working for a while. Odd Oleg didn't know of it. There is a woman, many days dead, over there. Probably a victim, though she must have died quietly, else Oleg would have heard."

Walker gestures over to where he and Nu had come from. The fox, or was she still the woman, seems content just to sit in his arms.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Or the goblins dragged a corpse here, to use as bait", Vasili said with a shrug. "It must have been the worgs, pretending to call for help... and hoping someone would show up. I think Dhov and I messed that up by walking right into the goblins", he added as he got up and walked over to the woman, to take a closer look at her.

Knowledge (Local) [roll0]

Taking a knee by the corpse, Vasili quickly studied the remains before covering the woman's face. "A peasant woman, judging by her garb. Probably some poor homesteader's wife or daughter... At least she died quickly, her throat's been slit."

Turning to look at Walker, the young man frowned a little. "Um... One question: what's with the fox?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Jax looked terribly startled when Deran showed up - with another armored soldier in tow. Quickly letting go of the reins, the riverman stepped away from the donkeys.

"Uh... right. Nothin' happenin' here. Just... makin' sure we were all ready to go when... um... you got back", he tried to explain himself, probably praying to Hanspur that the paladin had not heard the argument between him and Gendry. For Gendry it had to be said that he did not start tattle-taling right away, but focused on calming the alarmed draft animals down.

"Great, they're alive and well!" Tess's angry voice could be heard from the wagon, and the redhaired spitfire pushed herself past the cloth and leaning onto the teamster's seat, her hands still bound. "Now can someone please untie me? While you were gone, Guathialyn bolted. And neither of these geniuses would cut me loose to go after him."

"Don't forget Ms Zadaria", Sister Whore's voice could be heard from behind Tess's back.

"Oh yeah, that too. Guthialyn went and conked her out before running out. Right after taking a piss in Jax's face."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran 's look slowly goes from one of surprised alarm to horrified disbelief. He very slowly and deliberately slaps his gauntleted arm to his visor, producing a loud clang.

'So let me get this straight. One escaped, one got pissed at and the rest of you are arguing. Sigh.'

Deran turns to the accompanying knight.

"And these are the best of the lot. The ones we would like to talk about. You did get back in time"

[Angstrom]

Turning to look at Walker, the young man frowned a little. "Um... One question: what's with the fox?"

"Y'know, I hardly know myself."

Walker isn't comfortable disclosing the story the voices had told him. Not without proof, not that he expects to get it any time soon. Walker follows Walters example for the next while, doing whatever he is told to. Too shaken to make his own decisions he just follows along, hoping for a hint from the voices.

[North_Ranger]

Deran

"Uh... yeah. Yes, sir", Gendry answered, suddenly looking like he hoped the earth would open up and swallow him. "That would be the gist of it. Sir."

Jax had turned a very unhealthy-looking shade of red at Tess's revelation of his impromptu shower, and gave the redhead a pissed-off look that would have made Gyronna shiver. Tess merely put out her tongue at the riverman before lifting her bonds yet again. "So... how about these? I think I can still track him down if you'll let me. Sir", she offered to Deran while giving the servile young Gendry a little look.

Kesten, on the other hand, didn't look too pleased with the antics of the three. Frowning deeply, he took a look at Deran and sighed deeply. "Somehow I have a feeling this discussion demands at least two jugs of ale before it will start making sense. Gather your prisoners, knight. We will return to Oleg's Post as soon as possible", he said while rubbing the bridge of his nose in an effort to ward off a rising headache.

******

Elanore, Vasili, Walters, Walker, Dhovanu... and Nu and Quray

While Deran and Kesten were treated to an amateur performance of a goblin comedy act, the others were packing it in. Kesten's soldiers had poured some oil on the corpses of the goblins and the skinned worg, and the pile of carcasses lit up merrily once one of them threw his torch on top. The smell of burning flesh was almost immediate, greasy black smoke rising from the fire as it consumed beast and goblin alike.

Dhovanu and Vasili had tied up the worgskin for transport, intending to treat it further once they got back to Oleg's, while Walters and Elanore waited and Walker wandered the square with his new friend. The soldiers gave the haggard-looking fox-hugger a wide berth, muttering to themselves and making signs to protect from evil. A younger man wearing a suit of chainmail instead of boiled leather, meanwhile, walked up to the charter group. "Are you people just about ready?" he asked with all the haughtiness of a young nobleman. "We shouldn't dilly-dally here any further than is needed, not when there might still be goblins about. Which one of you will lead us to your camp?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

The silence of the explorers - most of whom were concerned with other matters than the squire's request - brought a derisive eye-roll from the young man as he walked off to bark orders at the soldiers. None of whom seemed to bent on listening to the young man, either.

A few moments later, Deran, Kesten and the wagon appeared from the darkness. Kesten looked like he was suffering from a dwarven hangover, Jax was sullen and pissed, and judging by the way Gendry had pulled his neck down inside his jacket like a scared tortoise things were not alright.

"Alright, you lot! Gather your horses and belongings, we're moving out!" Kesten called out, the soldiers jumping up to work. "As for you", the sellsword continued. "We'll have words when we're back at Oleg's Post. I want a full report, but not before we all get cleaned up and some well-deserved shut-eye."

*****

Vasili Kozhek

Deciding against speaking up to the clearly disgruntled Lord Kesten, Vasili sighed and got up once the man had ridden off. "Well... I guess that's better than a few more hours under canvas. Let's be off, then", he suggested as he and Dhovanu lifted the heavy worg pelt on Ember's back. The old mare was a little skittish at the wild smell of the dead beast's hide, but the young man whispered calmly to her, calming her before climbing on her back.

"What's gotten up his arse, anyway?" the frontiersman asked Deran as Jax brought the others their horses - though giving Nu a curious look, especially considering how the little fox seemed to nuzzle close to Walker. More like a pet than a beast of the wild...

[Angstrom]

Walker carries the fox with him as he goes. Common sense would dictate he leave the creature alone, but something about the sight of the woman's corpse made leaving the creature unthinkable.
Rest Saint Walker, your night is over.
Let the soldiers ward against him as they will, he can explain himself in the morning.

[shugyosha]

Walters

The large man gets ready to move out. He is silent in his preparations but gives a glare at Walker and his fox. Walters was looking forward to getting back to the fort.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

With the goblins and the worgs burnt, the party continues its way through the pre-dawn darkness of the Northern Greenbelt - only now they are being escorted by Kesten Garess and his soldiers. Jax remains uncharacteristically quiet, save for a splash of water from his waterskin every now and then as he seems to have taken up facial hygiene with almost religious fervor. In the wagon, Tessalonika sits sulking in her chains - apparently a dangerous condition as the usually smiling Sam and the gregarious half-orcs sit still and quiet and as far away from the flamehaired young woman as the cramped conditions of the wagon permit.

As dawn arrives, it is not the familiar palisade of Oleg's Post that first marks the trading post's presence. No, it is the half a dozen or so columns of pearl-gray smoke that rise from the distance. As you ride closer, you soon see that Oleg's Post is currently hosting more people than it did five days ago when you left. Outside the palisade wall sit two wagons with tents pitched between them, and four heavy work horses graze in a quickly-made pitch along the South Rostland Road. Cooking fires are lit between the tents, with a handful of women - an old, grey-haired crone, two dark-haired Rostlander peasant women and three girls between the ages of six and fourteen - stoking the flames or stirring pots of gruel. Two beardless boys, maybe thirteen or fourteen years of age, are carrying feed to the horses.

Apart from the peasants' camp stand three more tents, these looking more rugged with blotched patterns of green and gray and brown. A singular fire burns between the tents, and by the fire sits a frilly-haired halfling sharpening a nasty-looking axe. He as well as the peasants stop what they're doing when they hear the sound of approaching hoofbeats, and for a moment it looks like they are going to run to the gates of the palisade. The appearance of Kesten seems to calm them down, though they look curiously at the wagon and the people riding beside it.

Perception DC 10:
The peasants look like they've been travelling a good while and have only recently arrived. Some of the children look hungry, and one of the women - a brown-haired woman in her early thirties - looks like she is with child. All of them have weapons of sort within reach: mostly work hatchets and knives, and a single rusted boar spear.

Knowledge (engineering) DC 10:
It looks like someone has been repairing the palisade and the defunct catapults in the corner towers. A pile of timber, coils of rope and tools lie next to the southern wall. The trading post is still no fort, but the Levetons are clearly trying to boost their defenses.

Once inside the trading post, Kesten and his men dismount and lead their horses towards the table. Oleg Leveton himself appears from the main house, unshaven but already dressed. His face lights up when he sees you, and he rushes over to you. "You're back! Thank goodness, we were worried when you didn't get back sooner! Did you defeat the bandits? Are they all dead now? Are we safe?" he unloads a barrage of questions on you before slapping himself on his forehead. "Erastil's horns, where are my manners? You must be hungry and tired. Svetlana! SVETLANA, DEAR! They're back! The charter men are back! Quick, get them something to eat!"

At the stables

Up in the warm dark of the rafters, Anthom wakes up to the sound of horses being brought back. It must be Kesten and his men, coming back from yet another nightly riding. Before he can turn back in and pull his blanket back over his head, he can hear Oleg hollering in the courtyard. Something about someone getting back. And bandits. And something to eat.

Bandits... Maybe it was the group Oleg and Svetlana had been talking about. The group of freelancers from Restov, hired by the Swordlords to do what many deemed impossible: to tame the Stolen Lands.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran rides back to the post in relative silence. After informing Vasili of the events, he rides slowly and carefully. While he continues to make jokes at most times, he seems preoccupied. He engages Vasili in conversation, about what should be their next step. The real bandit thread has not been eradicated and they have already lost comrades.

But the sight of the changes brings out the smile in him. Whatever else, things were improving.

"Greetings to you, Master Oleg! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes and empty bellies! "

After that, Deran gets into a flurry of activity: Securing the prisoners, making sure the wounded get treatment, and separating those which the group has decided to unofficially pardon from the rest. Finally, he finds time to groom his horse and clean his clothes. It was always best to look presentable when having to make difficult decisions.

[shugyosha]

Walters

There is a big grin on his face as he returns to the fort. It was good to be back to some place safe. He will morn for his lost comrades later. He wanted to eat but knew that certain thing were needed to be done.

He helped with securing the prisoners, glaring at them in the most menacing way.

[Angstrom]

On their way back, Walker stops at a creek to wash the blood and grime off of both him and Nu. If not clean, the fox's coat was at least not bloodstained. A small patch of white fur, in a sharp chevron on her flank, is revealed in the otherwise gray fur.
She bears your sigil, Saint Walker.
On the way back Walker converses with the guardsmen he had travelled to the Stolen Lands with. As tired as he was, there was nothing for it but to embrace the day. Arriving at the fort, Walker is more interested in the strangers than in securing the captives, but joins the Walters in doing so anyways. He offers Tess, Sam, and the half-orcs sympathetic looks as he does so and suggests that, if Oleg will allow it, they should be taken inside the fort to warm themselves.

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

The cleric - though one might hardly know it from his scruffy appearance and travel-stained cloak - yawns and stretches his arms over his head, regarding the newcomers with some mild curiosity. Taming the Stolen Lands, eh? Good luck to them with that.

Nevertheless, the mention of something to eat sets his stomach rumbling and he ambles out of the stables, giving Oleg's horse a friendly pat on the nose as he goes. Food sounded good. Perhaps Svetlana wouldn't mind a spot of assistance in helping her to get some dinner out on the table to feed the hungry crew? Hopefully she wasn't one of those women who didn't like the idea of a man in the kitchen.

Thom goes off in search of mistress Svetlana, looking to offer her whatever help she needed in preparing a meal.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Sliding down from his saddle, Vasili moved to help his comrades with the prisoners. "Don't start any hassle", the young frontiersman whispered to Tessa and the twins when he helped hoist the bound prisoners out of the wagon. "Kesten is out to have all of you hanged. We'll talk to him, but don't give him any excuse to start a field trial."

Diplomacy [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

If the captured bandits agreed or disagreed, Vasili couldn't tell. The half-orcs were silent, Sam looked scared, and Tessa - well, the redhead still looked pissed, merely huffing as Vasili helped her out of the wagon.

"Lead them over there", one of Kesten's men called out, pointing towards a tent pitched against the northern wall of the compound. In front of the doorway stood a haggard-looking trapper, who looked extremely bored. "Had the tent pitched, to hold the prisoners until Lord Garess decides what to do with them. Keep 'em bound."

At the same time, Svetlana Leveton appeared from the main house, her hair tied up in a scarf and her face awash with sweat. "Thank the gods you're back", she offered with a smile. "But you'll have to wait a little. I'm overworked in the kitchen, trying to feed the guards, and some of the hunters, and trying to come up with a little something for the settlers as well. I'm only one woman."

"I can help", a meek voice suddenly spoke up from among the bandits. Sam - or Sister Whore, as the bandits used to call him - had suddenly stood up, and was looking at Svetlana and his captors. "I... I used to cook. Back at the camp. I can help", he said meekly, lifting his bound hands.

Svetlana looked at the young boy right in the eye and then nodded. "He'll do. Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him. Cut him loose", she then said with all the firmness of a frontier homemaker, looking at the guards and the charter men.

Thom

The itinerant Caydenite did not have to go far to find Svetlana, as she appeared from the main house to the courtyard. Despite the number of horses, guards, the bound bandits and the ecclectic group of the charter men - a knight, a soldier, a haggard man with a fox, a firehaired young man, a pensive-looking priest and an elven ranger helping a coughing, wounded pale woman out of the wagon - Svetlana Leveton stood tall, claiming her space within the courtyard. No wonder Oleg thought the world of his missus, seeing how she didn't let such small matters distract her.

It was true what she said, though; what with the number of people in the fort and the Levetons promise of a hearty breakfast for a few coins each, Svetlana was definitely overworked. Even now her apron was covered in flour and grease stains from baking bread and cooking thick slices of ham to go with the porridge and coffee.

[shugyosha]

Walters

He was a little taken back at the brashness of Svetlana. He looked down at Sister Whore and grimaced an implied threat. Then released him.

As the other prisoners shuffled in, he watched Tessa. "Hey Red, don't worry," he said hinting at compassion and then deflected it as quickly, "You'll get another chance to stab me."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"Well, aren't we a great happy family! Look at us! Some of us cooking, some of us staring at others, some of us waiting to stab some more of us... it is just like home!"

Deran 's expression is a mask of cheerfulness, radiating good will. His lips are curling, obviously enjoying his own show.

"So, whom amongst would like to help around the fort now, under my careful but fair supervision, with chores, and thereby make a good impression? I am thinking latrine duty, carrying wool for the stove, water, pitching tent for the settlers.

And then we will eat all together and we will all dream the easy sleep of the people on the road to forgiveness.

But right now, I think I will take a stroll to see what has happened while we important heroes were traipsing around chasing your sinning hides. I will be back for volunteers in a bit. Have some water"

Deran gives some water and then puts words to action, taking a leisurely stroll around the outpost, to see who is who and what has happened.

Diplomacy? If yes, [roll0]
Perception [roll1]
Just a roll [roll2]

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Thom elects to approach Svetlana and offer her a short bow from the waist. "Ma'am Svetlana? If I could be of any assistance in the kitchen? Of course, I promise not to intrude on your purview lest I give all these good men and women tummy aches. But if you need water fetched or things chopped or just someone to run around and get things done, you just have to say the word. It is the least I can do to repay you and Oleg for being such kind hosts."

Diplomacy: [roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili chuckled and shook his head at Deran's quip. Well, that is one way to get the locals to like these brigands, he thought to himself. Although I don't Oleg will...

Thinking quickly, the young frontiersman gave a whistle. "Master Oleg! There's something here you ought to see!" he called out and jumped into the wagon. Once certain he had Oleg's attention, he lifted the back cloth, letting Oleg see the cornucopia of gear they had taken from the bandit camp. Piles of armor, the kite shield with its stag-skull-and-sword motif, the variety of weapons ranging from daggers and javelins to longbows and polearms, clothes, a polished ram's skull - not to mention the crate full of stuffed toys, their amber eyes just begging them to get picked up and played with.

"When you have a moment, take a look at these and tell us if you see anything you would like to buy from us. Gendry will help you sort them out. If you make an honest offer, we'll consider it", Vasili offered with a smile as he jumped out of the wagon.

Just to remind you, we have a crap ton of stuff (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=14752258&postcount=1) :smallbiggrin:

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

The look on Oleg's face when he saw the masses of arms, armor and trade goods inside the wagon was one of sheer jaw-dropping amazement - a most comic expression for the otherwise stern-jawed, no-nonsense tradesman.

"Cayden's balls", he muttered as he found his speech again. "Yes... I... I think I can do this. With some help. Gendry, was it? Let's start unloading and see what we have here."

Meanwhile, Svetlana had taken Sam under her wing. The young man was rubbing his wrists as Svetlana rushed him off to the kitchen before she turned to look at the wagon - and then Thom. "It seems your talents would be needed elsewhere", she suggested with a touch of sorrow in her voice and nodded towards the wagon - where Oleg and Gendry were slowly lifting down the body of a dead knight. Not to mention the pale-looking woman with a swaddle of bloodied cloth around her neck, held up by a half-elf cleric and the elven ranger.

Quickly after that, things settled down to a rhythm. While Thom tended to the pale witch and her wounds, the full- and half-elven women accounted their situation. The knight - Gedriwyn - had been laid low by bandits, and by the sound of the witch Winter's rasping throat, she would be of little use as a spellcaster until her wounds healed properly. Still, she would live. The half-elven Sarenite - Elanor, she called herself - did worry about Gedriwyn, though. "It's been three days since he died, and we did not have the proper means to prepare him for burial. Perhaps you would be willing to help me?"

Meanwhile, the living were attended to a hearty and filling breakfast, courtesy of Svetlana Leveton. Thick loaves of fresh-baked bread, jars and honey and butter, and plates of crisp bacon and boiled tubers were served along with porridge and strong coffee. And should anyone think of getting up from the table before mistress Svetlana was sure they were truly sated... well, she would have none of that. Gently she would just press them back down on their rear ends and tell them to "finish their meal, dearie. You've earned it."

After the meal, Svetlana had Oleg open the guesthouse doors, allowing the no-longer-hungry group a chance to rest and freshen up. Sam and Svetlana then went to work bringing hot bath water for those who wished to bathe and shave, allowing the group a much-needed respite of civilization after the rugged outdoors. During this time Deran also took his stroll, taking note of the changes. Kesten's men were re-building and repairing the outpost's defenses along with three brawny Rostlanders and two younger men - apparently the sturdier menfolk of the peasants outside the palisade. The other camp outside seemed to consist of hunters and trappers, waking up to greet the new day. The other addition was a sign post Oleg had raised outside the main house doors, with a variety of papers and parchments already hanging from it. Wanted posters, perhaps? Kesten had mentioned there being a reward for killing bandits...

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran gets back in time to help with preparing the fallen knight for his final resting place. As others take care of his body, Deran, with the patience of a squire, takes time to clean, polish, sharpen and oil all of Gedriwyn 's arms and armor. His face is somber and a bit sad.

This is what awaits true knights, more often than not. We must and shall remember him

After that somber duty, Deran makes sure the knight is fully clothed and equipped. He tells whoever is with him at the time

"I will hold a knight's wake for him. If Master Oleg gives me use of one clean room for a night, I will keep his vigil. I did not know him well. But he died as my comrade. It is my duty."

After that, Deran will will take note of the various notices, eat heartily and consult with Vasili and the others and then make sure that his prisoners are well behaved and well cared for.

At midnight, Deran will light a candle near the body of Gedriwyn and spend the night on one knee, his axe in his hand, head bowed, reciting the prayers and chants of the religions he knows.

Knight Gedriwyn, embrace my vigil at your side. I was not worthy enough to help you survive the battle. For that, forgive me. Please accept my honor in your final crossing. Forgive my mistakes at your side. May your soul receive its rewards in the Other Side. You have earned your peace.

Iomedea, guide his soul as you guided his hand. Protect him as you protected his heart. Accept him, as you accepted his just causes. Give him a stead, to ride through the afterlife. Give him a sword, to fight through Hell. Give him a shield, to avert the blows he can see and give him your blessing, to avoid those he can't.

Erastil, lead him through the paths to your heavenly family, as he tried to open the paths for others. Open your door for his soul, as he strived to do for others. Give him the warmth of your fire, as he helped build fires for those who would come after him. Let him tell you his story, as he fought though it, in darkness and pain. Give him his share of your bounty, as he helped others have theirs.


And so on, all through the night, until the sun appears once again in the horizon. A haggard Deran then rises, trembling from the effort, his back an agony of pain and his feet long ago numb. But he is smiling. He gives a last salute and makes sure the knight's eyelids are closed. The dead now belong with dead and the living have work to do.


That means that Deran will not sleep that night. If any check is needed tomorrow, tell me. Religion take 10 for 14, to recite the prayers.
Also, the notices will influence what they talk with Vasili

[North_Ranger]

"Pity, that", came the sudden expression from Sam, who was emptying buckets of warm water to a wooden pail, in case anyone wanted to bathe. "I heard Oleg say he was going to hold a feast for you all. You know, because you ---"

"SAM!" came an equally sudden snap from Svetlana, walking in with two new buckets. "It was supposed to be a surprise", she scolded the silenced former brigand, and by the looks of it she clearly had the upper hand when it came to Sam. Sighing to herself, she looked at Deran. "Sorry about that, sir. I'll talk to Oleg. Say you want to bury your friend in peace. Just promise me you'll look surprised when he tells you? Please? He's been under a lot of stress."

********

A little later, at the notices

The sign post is a hasty affair: two poles with three horizontal planks nailed to it to make a kind of notice board. Surprisingly, though, there are already signs attached to it, written in a variety of handwritings and styles.

The first one is clearly written by a noble's steady, trained hand, even if the tone of voice is clearly militaristic:



WANTED

Falgrim Sneeg,
The Sinister Scribe

Guilty of Theft, Abandoning His Post and Horse Thievery
Armed and Dangerous

Lord Kesten Garess hereby places a bounty on the scribe Falgrim Sneeg, a treacherous man guilty of absconding from Oleg's Trading Post with Company gold and horse.

The bounty will be paid to those individuals who return the stolen goods or Falgrim Sneeg for the judgment of Lord Garess.

The next notice, by comparison, is clearly from someone less accustomed to quills - most obviously because it looks like the big, blocky letters have been scrawled onto the paper with a piece of charcoal.


WONTID

TUSKGUTTER

in STowLen Lands is a BEEG UGLEE PIG, callT TUSKGUTTER
basTid Tuk me leg lasT yiar
KEEL TUSKGUTTER an breeng his hed to OLEG

REWORD one fine bow and siks gud arrowz blessT to keel aneemals
EEF hed noT roTin, also share ov hedcheese wil maik
hope basTid TasT beTTe dan luks he he

Vekkel Benzen

The third one is of a more reserved, economic style, devoid of flourishes - with a quick scribble in a more feminine hand underneath.


WANTED

A TATZLWYRM HEAD

Oleg Leveton, an honest trader and master of Oleg's Post, wishes to purchase ONE (1) TATZLWYRM HEAD in good condition, for the purposes of mounting said head in his establishment.

A generous reward of 200 GOLD CROWNS will be paid upon delivery and inspection of the head.

The head better not be attached to a living tatzlwyrm! Nobody likes a prankster!

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

"Of course, Ma'am," says Thom gently, excusing himself and moving in the direction of the folk that Svetlana has indicated. Seeing that an armoured paladin has taken it upon himself to attend to the fallen knight and that there seems to be something of a kinship between them, Thom elects to refrain from interfering in the preparation ritual. The taking of one's leave was something sacred and it would not do to impose himself.

(Later on, when the paladin makes his vigil, Thom will ask if he would like libations to be offered to the Lucky Drunk to guide the dead man's soul safely into the Beyond.)

For now, Thom retrieves his healer's paraphernalia and does his best to cleanse the wounds of the witch, making light banter and joking to distract her from the sting of antiseptic.

Heal check: [roll0]
Diplomacy check - will she appreciate his jokes or just find him lame?: [roll1]
If necessary, [roll2] for Channel Positive Energy.

Later on, once he has made sure that Winter is comfortable and that the half-elf with her has been given some salve to apply to the wound if it should turn warm, Thom wanders over to the signpost to have a look at its contents. He grins to himself as he reads, giving a low whistle of appreciation at the poster for the tatzlwyrm head - 200 crowns was a lot of money.

"Makes you wonder what the heck to do with the rest of the wrym though," he muses aloud, more to himself than anyone else, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

[Servbot]

Aloys

"There are said to have been barbaric tribes who fashioned fetishes out of the scalps of their fallen enemies," came the drawling response to Thom's wonder. From a distance approached a lad with a peculiar pointed hat, leaning on a staff for support (for all that he doesn't need it!).

"In acquiring these fetishes, the barbarians─mind that they may well be more civilised than some locales─would thereafter use the rest of the body to ferment the ground or fashion weaponry out of bones," the lad continued in that same drawling, half-monotone, "though it raises the question whether brittle human bone would have made an apt weapon."

He frowned, eyeing the critter on his shoulder and, after a moment of quiet contemplation, turned again to Thom. A little awkwardly, he half-bowed his head and stammered, "Th, that is, I... guessed your question was not rhetorical?"

[shugyosha]

Walters

The large man takes his place in the meal line, taking the hot food with gratitude. He eats quietly by himself and finishes with without bother. After which he grabbed three bowls and filled with food and headed to the tent with the prisoners.

Looking at the bounded trio he says, "Bet you're hungry?"

[Angstrom]

Walker sees Walters walking with the three bowls and offers to help. At the very least he carries a bucket and ladle over to offer the prisoners a drink. He remembered how thirsty Stevros had been after the miller locked him in his cellar overnight for trying to steal a kiss from Iliana. These folk had been bound for a lot longer and Walker doubted anyone was crying over them like Iliana cried for Stev. The Stolen Lands don't seem anyone's first choice and its rather clear why Oleg and Svetlana wouldn't want to bring a child into this harsh place.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran, preparing for the vigil, notices some of the newcomers. They certainly did not seem like laborers. When one of them- Thom?- offers to give libations, Deran 's eyes light up.

"But of course. Thank you. I am not well familiar with the teachings of the Accidental God. So you are a man of the Cloth? Or should I say Tankard?"

Deran smiles, more from the absurdity of the joke than the joke itself.

"In any case, well met, Thom. And thank you. "

Our group has been diminished. Perhaps this man would be persuaded to join us. And the other man with the staff, probably has some interesting talents. I must talk with Vasili.

So as not to confuse the narrative more, I will wait for events to streamline again and have my talk with Vasili

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

"I'm quite sure there's folk who'd gladly fashion a shiv out of human bone if they had to, though I was thinking more of the tatzlwyrm rather than this 'Sinister Scribe' person," said Thom affably. "Seems a waste to give our friend Oleg here just the head, don't you think so?"

Not going to reply to Deran until events catch up with him.

[North_Ranger]

I think you can answer him, maggie. The vigil will be only later that night, and it's roughly... 8am at the moment.


Vasili Kozhek

The delicious aromas wafting from Svetlana's cooking were enough to make Vasili's stomach growl like a worg. Had it really been only four days since they left Oleg's Post? It seemed like an eternity, at least to his stomach. Trail rations were all well and good, but nothing beat home-cooking done with love.

Having eaten his fill, the young frontiersman took a look around. Walker and Walters were headed towards the prisoners' tent with food, but Vasili thought best not to join them. He had had words with the captive highwaymen on the road - well, most of them with Tessa, but that was beside the point - so he thought it best to let them simmer for a while. Besides, they might take it as a sign of distrust if they saw three armed men coming in just to bring them breakfast.

Deciding to take a much needed private moment, he instead walked over to the wagon where Gendry and Oleg were going through their spoils, and retrieved his bag. Svetlana and Sam had raised sheets on the northside of the guest house, between the house and the palisade, to give the bathers some privacy, and behind those sheets he could hear Dhovanu, Winters and Elanore talking while the three women took the first batch of hot water. Moving into the guest house, Vasili sat down on one of the beds and pulled out a worn wooden case from his bag. Opening it, he inspected the contents: molds and clips for making shots, measuring cups, mortar and pestle, a small oil lamp... all showing signs of use and wear. Beside him on the bed were the few small waterproof kegs he had brought with his last coin in Restov. Sulfur, charcoal, saltpeter...

Marisetta and Gennadi had always taught him to rely on himself as much as possible. Especially when it came to keeping his weapons and tools in good working condition. He knew how to fix broken tools or to shoe a horse... and he knew how to make his own gunpowder and shot.

Now all he needed was a little bit of time... and a hope that no one came too close with a lit candle.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Walker and Walters

When the two men (and the fox) entered the tent, the first thing they noticed was that there were fewer bandits there than they had expected. Sitting on the ground with their arms and legs tied were four bandits, not the six there should have been. Jorge and Carlito sat leaning against the wall, Tessa had stretched herself out on the patch of hay close by - and alone by himself sat Jeof, one of the three bandits originally captured.

And he looked like he had been kicked by the ugly horse and dragged for five ugly miles down the ugly street. His face was swollen and a mixture of blues and purples and blacks. One eye he could barely keep open, and the other was bloodshot. At Walters's quip Jeof barely managed to mutter something nasty with his swollen lips and spit on the ground before he scooted himself to look away from him. Of Bran and Hansel, the two other bandits, there was no sign.

"Time for the last meal, huh?" Tessa asked as she pulled herself up and looked at the duo at the doorway.

[shugyosha]

Walters

"Oh, I don't know about that Red," he says before realizing the two missing prisoners. "Where are the other two?"

[North_Ranger]

"Gone", Jeof slurred between broken teeth. "Thried thoo wrun. Go' cauthh. Garess hud thum hangth."

"He says Garess got them hanged when they tried to run. Him they just beat up", Tessa interpreted. "That's what's gonna happen to us too, right? Or should I prepare myself for a bit of rapin'?" she continued in her familiar sardonic tone, staring the two men down.

[Servbot]

Aloys

The wizard shakes his head, maintaining his deadpan expression as he replies, "I did not mean to imply you kill the requester... Merely, given barbarians consider human prey material for tools, I would propose you treat the wyrm's body in much the same way," with a nod to the third person, and then returning his attention to Thom, "using claws and legs for tools."

For a moment, Aloys considers his next response. A moment later, he's still frowning thoughtfully, before he drawls, "I could not help but notice you used the word 'our' in describing your friend. It seems reasonable to assume you speak as representative of a group or individual, and that said group or individual has invested you with the authority to speak on their behalf. However," and he glances sideward at Deran for a moment, "you have kept solitary company for as long as I have observed you. Therefore, it is my conjecture that you speak on behalf of an individual or group who is not as yet present. Perhaps even an individual who is both present as not present." Another pause, then, "Would it be correct of me to assume you speak on behalf of one or more gods?"

[shugyosha]

Walters

He was surprised that they were hung so quickly.

"Well, if you want the rapin' we can do that after you eat," he says matching her sarcasm. "But I wasn't planning on that."

Kneeling down he spoons out some food, "Here eat. Look, some of us will put in a good word for you. You didn't run when you had a chance; you helped keep everyone else in line; with any luck you can work off your sentence."

[North_Ranger]

Tessa looked at the food and the man offering it for a moment, as if weighing both. But hunger was a strong motivator, and finally he took the spoonful and swallowed.

"I'm sure you will", she continued, her tone still biting but a little softer at the edges now. "But you're not gonna stay, are you? Who's gonna stop this man Kesten from hangin' us one by one, when y'all are gone back to the wilds?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Amidst the various comings and goings, the walk, dining and repairing, Deran tries to locate his friend Vasili. Things were happening and plans needed to be made. Spotting his friend, he walks over.

"Hey, oh Thunderer of the Wilds and Worg Tossing Champion of the Untamed Lands - the last bit really hurt my pride by the way, now I have to outshoot you in some way- if you have a moment, we need to plan."

If Vasili gives him some time, Deran goes to a corner to talk.

" It seems that our prisoners are becoming fewer in number. For some of them, the blame is more or less theirs, but some of the others, they have been true to their word. This knight Garess seems a man who loves harsh justice. It would weight heavily upon my conscience if people I have pledged to give a fair chance are hanged just for the sake of it. Also, we must consider: How far are we eager to let Garess turn this into his own domain of justice? What we arrange now, it will probably be how things are going to go on the future. Do we want him to be the final arbiter? I think we should go talk to him, perhaps now.

Also, what do you think we should do with our Brave Batallion? We suffered casualties, and it seems that some of our companions will not be traveling with us. But I also noticed some new travelers that seem to have ... skills. I would not mind asking them if they would like to take up the Good Fight. Would you agree?

And finally - god, I am tiring my meager intelligence with all this talking- there are various posters with errands to run. It might be good to have them in mind, since I believe we will be traipsing around righting wrongs before the end of the week.

And finally - no really, stop looking at me like that, this is the final 'finally'- we must think on our next target. I vote for the vanishing daggerman with the strange coins. And in the meantime, we should get the possibly relevant hideous objects we found properly identified.

I think that was all."

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili had just stepped out of the guest house, having given room for the women who had finished their washing. He had hoped to catch some of the hot water himself, but Deran had other plans. The young frontiersman listened quietly, nodding when appropriate, while still impatiently rapping his fingers against his toolkit. There was work to be done...

"Lordlings are like that. We ought to find out what brought him here anyway. I mean, you and I and the others? We have the charter from the Swordlords. I'm not the keenest political mind, but I reckon that means we have the final say what gets done about the brigands and when, right?

And unfortunately, you're right - more than I'm comfortable with, to be honest", he added with a sigh. "I had a talk with the ladies. Winter says she's in no condition to continue, and that she'll start off for Restov as soon as she can. Elanore's saying she'll go with her, too. That it wouldn't be safe for Winter to travel alone in her condition. And Dhovanu... she said she wants to stay here, to make sure the settlers will arrive safely. I think seeing the bait the worgs used got to her.

So yes, if you think some of these newcomers would like some Swordlord coin, by all means have words with them. As for what we do next... I think we should decide that as a group. As well as who goes to speak with Kesten."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"So be it then. Sorry to make you wait for your bath. By the Desna's fairy dust, I need one too. Please tell them to hold on some for me."


Deran goes to find Walker and Walters. He suggests that they meet somewhere all three. If they agree, he says the following.

"Dear comrades in arms. There are decisions to make. I just had a talk with Vasili. We need to talk with Kesten, to assert that our word with the prisoners stays intact. And also, that our word generally carries weight around here. So, we should decide who should go.

Also, I think we should consider recruiting some new members in our merry band. I believe there are two with considerable skills already here. After all, the acts we are so good at, mainly 'Getting bloody in unknown places', requires more actors.

And finally, we need to decide what our next target will be. Perhaps this can wait for tomorrow."

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Thom raises an eyebrow in confusion as the lad rambles on, but grins rakishly anyway by the end of it, shrugging his broad shoulders.

"Well, I ain't schooled in the preservation of hides and the paws, so I doubt that'd mucky business would be up to me. Besides, I'm not so foolish as to go tatzlwyrm hunting on my lonesome. And you're thinking too highly of my simple turn o' phrase, good sir. All I meant to say was that Oleg's an excellent host, and he's certainly been very gracious towards me. I should only hope he's extended the same courtesy to you? If you don't find him worthy of your friendship, then I must apologise for having made the assumption on your behalf." Thom speaks without malice and in a matter-of-fact tone, nodding to himself in approval when he considers mentally whether Oleg and Svetlana have been anything less than exemplary towards him since he stumbled in utterly exhausted only yesterday.

[Servbot]

Aloys

The wizard frowns. "If a friend is a companion with whom you have bonds forged through the passage of time and dire need, then Sir Oleg is no friend of mine." He shakes his head. "Nay, it is a requisite of friendship that you have some deeper bond than mere acquaintance, and one stronger than the passage of two moons. Surely you jest."

After a pause, Aloys adds, "These... tatterwyrms, they live in the Stolen Lands, do they?"

[shugyosha]

Walker


Tessa looked at the food and the man offering it for a moment, as if weighing both. But hunger was a strong motivator, and finally he took the spoonful and swallowed.

"I'm sure you will", she continued, her tone still biting but a little softer at the edges now. "But you're not gonna stay, are you? Who's gonna stop this man Kesten from hangin' us one by one, when y'all are gone back to the wilds?"

"People smarter than me are already taking care of it. Plus if it comes down to it we'll take you along to carry our equipment," he says with a smile. "Now eat up and enjoy the hot meal."

When Deran comes to the tent he days to the prisoners, "See heres one now, I'm sure he's come up with a plan." He leaves with him and listens to what he has to say.

Walker didn't think word about the hanging had spread so quickly. "We need to talk to Kesten now."

[Angstrom]

Upon discovering the bloodied prisoner, Walker puts down pail of water and kneels next to Jeof. "Gods this looks bad. Sorry, but I'm no healer."

Before he can rise to find Elanore, Nu leaps from his shoulder to nuzzle up against the prisoner. Reaching down to grab the fox before she can stick her paw into Jeof's wounds, he stops.
Let him be healed.
"Well I'll be damned" Walker mutters to himself. Lifting Nu up from Jeof, he watches the bruises soften and several lacerations knit closed. "That's a special fox."


Turning to find Elanore, Walker nearly bumps into Deran. Distracted he joins the Walters and the paladin outside the room.

"Right, fine with me. You're the experts. We all go talk to Garess. To take the spirit of what Vasili was saying earlier: its time we started making this our Stolen Lands"

CLW on Jeof: [roll0]

The peasant witch fully supports sticking it to the man and asserting PC dominance in the region.

[North_Ranger]

Walker & Walters

Tessa and the others seem to accept the sellsword's words for now. Even Jeof seems to be in better mood when they leave. It probably helped that Walker's newfound ability to offer healing had reduced the swelling and bruising on his face, making him look more like a man again and not an unusually well-dressed beet root. He would still be lacking a handful of teeth, though; the magic that Walker had weaved could mend flesh and staunch bleeding, but it could not grow Jeof a new set of incisors.

The Group

"Agreed", a familiar voice chimed in, with Vasili joining the others with Dhovanu in tow. "And the sooner the better. If what Deran says is true and he has been throwing his weight around like some border baron with a tiny dagger, we need to set him straight before he has the settlers building him a castle."

"And speak of the devil", the frontiersman added, nodding towards the front of the main house where the flashily-dressed newcomer and the healer - Caydenite, was he? - were talking. Kesten had just appeared out of the main house, and was apparently saying something to the pair.

Thom & Aloys

"Aye, that they do", a new voice answered the wizard before Thom. The speaker was the tall, armored young Brevan who had arrived that morning. He was still muddy from the road, his chin unshaven, but he carried himself with all the gravitas of a nobleman. "At least, that's what the stories say. That they slither along the rivers and eat boats and men alike", he added with a chuckle. "Old wives' tales, if you ask me. Probably someone just saw a river drake and the beast got bigger with every re-telling. But if master Leveton wants to have people chasing grumpkins and snarks, that's his prerogative."

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Thom scratches his chin, seemingly deep in thought and his eyes faraway. "Grumpkins and snarks, eh? Mm. I used to be a sailor meself, good sir. And I always thought that devilfish were just something cooked up by longshoremen who'd had one pottle too many of grog and gotten themselves scared of a little squid. That is, until the day a devilfish actually attacked the fishing boat I was working on..."

Chuckling softly in self deprecation, Thom shakes his head and nods genially at the Brevan. "I don't deny that this tatzlwyrm could be but a tall-tale. But still, it'd be a wonder to see one, if it did exist, don't you think so?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"So be it then! Let us go engage our brave knight in diplomatic and polite conversation, after we also recruit Vasili. All in all, it does not strike me as a bad man. "

Deran goes and fetches Vasili. Assuming he joins them, Deran, like the head of some foreign delegation, approaches Garenn.

"Sir knight, I wonder if we could have a word? Perhaps somewhere privately? I believe there are some matters that we should discuss, and the sooner the better. We are travel weary, I know, but it would be good to have our discussion sooner than later.

Would you agree?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Kesten Garess's smile died somewhat at the appearance of the charter men, and he frowned at the request for a parlay. It had been a long night, as the haggard appearance of the blueblooded sellsword testified.

"If this cannot wait until we are all properly rested", he conceded with some irritation in his voice. "Let's step inside", he added before walking into the main house.

Indoors, it seemed that Kesten had indeed started to set up roots inside. When Vasili and Dhovanu had first arrived, the house had been the Levetons' domain. Now the way Kesten strode into the office that Oleg had said was his, it looked as if he expected to 'hold court' in this frontier setting. Oleg's office was a small, comfortable and no-nonsense room with a table and chairs, a bookcase filled with ledgers and documents, and two strongboxes against the back wall - one a worn but sturdy piece belonging to Oleg, likely, and another a heavier, more decorated trunk likely containing the coin of Garess and his men.

Perception or Knowledge (Engineering) DC 17
It looks like that the strongbox belonging to Garess is not as impervious as its glittering black sides and iron fasteners would have you believe: the area where a heavy lock now hangs is scuffed and scratched, and the lock is similar to the one on Oleg's, down to the last detail. Apparently someone had managed to crack the strongbox not too long ago, and Kesten had had to get a replacement from the Levetons.

Kesten takes a seat behind the table and takes off his helmet and gloves. He sighs deeply, patting down his 'helmet hair' before taking a look at the lot before him. "So... what seems to be the problem, sir knight?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran makes a point of looking around. If there is a second chair, Deran will drag it and sits as casually as possible, indicating that he is not speak standing up, like giving a report.

"I could have sworn that was the office of Master Oleg. But I could be mistaken.

Thank you sir knight for your time. I hope there is no problem, that is why we insisted on talking today.

You will remember, sir, that we gladly accepted your assistance in the matter of some of our captives. These were apprehended lawfully, under the charter that has been granted to us. Even if that was not the case, however, which it is, the rules of engagement are specific that a surrender makes the captor responsible for his captives, as I am sure you know.

So, I must regret the fact that some of our captives tried to escape and where summarily hanged. Escape is not to be condoned, of course, and disciplinary action is your prerogative, generally speaking. But such a decision should have been first discussed with their captors, which is us. To prevent any such misunderstanding from arising in the future in our chartered lands, captain, we wanted to have this discussion with you, now. It just so happens that the rest of the captives have been offered choices, depending conditionally on their behavior. The implementation of these choices we will be happy to discuss with you in the near future, when we are all more rested.

But until then, sir knight, we thought it imperative that we put things in their proper context. It would be a terrible shame, for example, if my honor as a knight and as an Anointed member of the Obsidian Order, comes into question due to some misunderstanding. My honor, I mean, as a knight who has promised his captives certain treatment"

Deran finishes this monologue with a flashy smile.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Kesten listened to the monologue with an ever-deepening frown on his forehead. When Deran was done chastising him, the nobleman leaned closer.

"You make promises, sir. But it is I who must implement them. I don't deny that the Swordlords gave you the charter, to see to the bandit problem and the mapping of the Stolen Lands as you see fit - but that doesn't mean you can ask the impossible of me.

I ask you, sir, to consider the following: I am not in command of an entire company of able-bodied soldiers. My command, such as it is, consists of a handful of hopefuls and jumped-up guttersnipes from Restov and New Stetven. They're soldiers only in the broadest sense of the word, and I am still in the process of turning them into a proper fighting force. Nor can I easily request for reinforcements from Restov. The Swordlords have the best choice of soldiers, followed by established mercenary captains. You and I, sir, must accept whatever dregs we can find.

What is more, my men are already wound-up when it comes to morale. They are building up the fort's defenses, trying to hound out goblins and other undesirables in the wilderness, and I barely have the monies to pay them, thanks to a certain scribe who made off with the company gold", Kesten continued with a snarl, his eyes darting to the locked strongbox. "And now you come back and ask me to babysit some more highwaymen? The last three you left me barely waited a day before trying to run, and I dealt with them as the law states. Now tell me, sir, what do you expect me to do?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"Nicely said, sir. I make promises and I intend to keep them. If you find yourself unable to help me in that regard, just say so. I will make my own arrangements.

But I believe, and I state it again, that here we have a misunderstanding. It falls to you to keep the peace, with what resources you have, here. I do not intend to make this harder for you, on the contrary. I do believe, though, that notifying us when you are about to hang our prisoners, does not require either funds or manpower. And holding them until their fate is decided also requires very little of both, since they are being fed by others and not out of your coffers.

As for the rest of your concerns. If we had not attacked the bandit camp whose prisoners we are now discussing, your work would have been even harder. And when tomorrow, or the day after, we tackle another threat nearby, your work will be even easier. As will be ours, since we will know that you are literally holding the fort here. We are just at the change of tides, captain. If we act together, we will change it, and for good.

Finally, also consider this: The men and women now prisoners used to be desperate people who did desperate things. Some of the where more innocent than others. And they are men and women who know these lands very well and who are, perhaps, looking for a way to live here. If they could be used to address these shortcomings you mention, what addition would they make to our forces! So this is what we intend to do: How much would it tax you to supervise them, feed them and sleep them, humanely, if they work around here, doing their penace at the same time? How long would that be able, and how long since we are sure we can trust them? And what if they accepted a commission as guards later on, after they have proven themselves? They are probably more battle experienced than three of your recruits put together.

This is what we are talking about, captain. Things are about to get better. Do not let the initial first difficulties cloud the fact that we are gaining assets, and removing problems, every day. Already, you fortify, you guard, you patrol. Give us a base, guard us a place that men can find hope and work, and we will do the rest."

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"And you won't be guarding them alone", Dhovanu spoke up suddenly, resting her bow on the floor. "I'll stay here. Talk to the captives. Guard them, if need be. Free up your men for other tasks."

"And I think you need not worry about the thief", Vasili added as he looked at Deran. "The man you were looking - this Falgrim Sneeg? - he was one of the bandits we encountered. Unfortunately for him, he chose to fight instead of putting his arms up, so he is currently pushing up daisies somewhere in the Narlmarches."

As Kesten pondered, Vasili leaned in and whispered to Deran. "Didn't we find a chest of gold as well? That Sneeg had under lock and key?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran 's expression changes slowly as Vasili speaks. He goes from puzzlement, to epiphany, to embarrassed recollection to guilty amazement.
He turns slowly to Garess.

"Eeeeeh... there is also that. It seems we have recovered your stolen gold. As my more quick-witted companion says -which right now, as a description, includes even our horses- the thieving scribe has been punished terminally.

Apparently, I am more right that even I know!"

[Servbot]

Aloys

"Given the surrounding lands, these would be extremely habitable for a tatzlwyrm," the mage interjects. "Though the people of this land put much faith in tales and fantasies, and if you would believe their tales a tatzlwyrm would inhabit even a shoe, as much as it is logically unsound to believe so."

He shrugs. "It occurs to me that our discourse has not lend itself yet to social necessities. Is it not accepted, if not required, that we introduce ourselves and obfuscate the reason for the conversation until such a time we feel the other can not help but acquiesce your request?"

[shugyosha]

Walters

The soldier gives his unsolicited opinion, "Put 'em to work. Most of the prisoners were bandits but happenstance. They were looking to start a new life but met Kestrel first. They were bandits and sword point. So let them work off their debt to society. Chain them together and have them work on the fortifications."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

The mention of Sneeg and the gold seemed to have the desired effect, as Kesten leaned back in his - well, Oleg's - chair, shifting back from the confrontational stance he had adopted. "Really now?" he asked with a hint of a smile, his fingers rubbing the stubble on his chin. "Well... that certainly helps things, to say the least. A paid sellsword is a happy sellsword, after all. And if you don't oppose putting them to work, under guard of course", he added, giving a look at Dhovanu. "I think we can work something out. I will insist on keeping them in leg-chains for the time being, though. Can't have any more escape attempts."

At this point, Kesten got up on his feet. "Very well, gentlemen and lady. You have yourself a deal. We'll keep your prisoners alive and fed, and put them to work. When - if - they prove themselves trustworthy, we'll discuss releasing them under... Dhovanu, was it? ... under her supervision. But now I would like to see my gold."

If there are no objections, Kesten quickly walked with the men and Dhovanu to the waiting wagon. Clearly he was a man on a mission now, making a beeline for his gold, not even paying attention to the ongoing conversation about tatzlwyrms and their habitat that was going on right beside the door.

Maggie, Servbot... Feel free to jump in if you wish :smallwink:

They were not the first to arrive at the wagon, though. Genry, Jax and Oleg were already there, surrounded by the wagon's contents divided into neat stacks. It was nothing short of shocking how much gear they had actually carried off from the bandit camp. There were polearms, bows, seven quivers full of arrows, six barrels of beer, not to mention the heavy shields and suits of armor of varying quality. Gendry and Jax were currently in the process of pulling a tarp over the most perishable items, in case the heavy clouds in the horizon would bring rain. Oleg himself was walking amongst the stacks, barely noticing Kesten and the others as he muttered to himself and scribbled on a piece of paper.

Kesten paid little mind to the tradesman, waiting for Gendry to get the heavy chest that contained the company gold. Once the chest was provided, the sellsword captain opened the lid. A smile cut across his face as he saw the wealth contained within, and then closed the lid again.

"Yes, this looks to be mine. The chest was Sneeg's, for sure", he said as he pulled the chest down. "Pity you couldn't take him alive, I had such plans to interrogate him. But I'm not an ungrateful man, no sir. We had a shipment of arms come in the day before yesterday. Good steel, dwarf-forged. You're welcome to two items of your choice."

Loot:

Cash loot -500gp

And the group gets to pick two masterwork weapons from Kesten's shipment.

Once satisfied with the exchange, Kesten departed for the main house. And despite the heavy chest he carried, there seemed to be a new spring in his step - which was the polar opposite of what could be said about Oleg when he approached the group. Looking at the paper in his hand with wide eyes and a sweaty brow, he cleared his throat.

"Erm... excuse me? Might I have a word with you?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran lets out a mighty sigh when the knight leaves. That went well. He turns to face Oleg with a theatrical flourish.

"But of course you may, my goodman Oleg! What seems to be troubling you? We are after all here to deal with problems."

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

"I'm a man of not very much brain. You'll have to excuse me if I don't catch up with you all the time. Anthom Allin, Chosen of the Lucky Drunk, at your service, master. And how may I address you?"

[shugyosha]

Walters

He was actually a bit surprised at how easily Lord Kesten took his suggestion. He bowed a thanks and went back to the prisoners.

Pulling aside the tent flap he says, "Kesten has give you a deal, you'll work chained together until he see fit that you paid your debt to society and prove yourselves trustworthy. At which time you will be free, but try to escape the deal is forfeit as is your life. How does that sound to ya, Red?"

[Servbot]

Aloys

Idly observing the flippant captain and his entourage, Aloys returns, "... Was I rambling? It's a bad habit of mine. This is where I should apologise, isn't it?" He turns to look at the scorpion on his shoulder, which just clacks one of its scissors and Aloys seems satisfied by the response.

"Yes, my apologies, I should have attempted to phrase myself in more colloquial terms. I am Aloys, student of the Professor. He bade me journey here to venture into the Stolen Lands and investigate a matter of which I am presently unsure whether secrecy is a factor."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Oleg and the people at the courtyard

"Well", Oleg said and looked at the piece of paper in his hand. "To put it mildly... you either think I pass gold bullions when I go to the privy, or you're trying to buy me out in a manner that would make an Abadaran blush", he said and produced the piece of paper for Deran and the others to see. On it, he had listed in increasingly shaky handwriting the contents of the wagon, and a number beside each item.


3 x opals (refined, scintillating) - 1,200gp

Armor:
8 x leather armor - 40gp
1 x studded leather armor (lightly damaged) - 7 gp
3 x studded leather armor - 12 gp 5 sp
1 x scale mail (crap-quality) - 10 gp
3 x scale mail - 75gp
3 x heavy shield - 10gp 5sp
1 x kite shield (exquisite) - 75gp
1x kite shield (broken) - 5gp
3 x iron kettle hat - 5gp
1 x armoured sleeves - 1gp

Weapons:
6 x longbows - 37gp 5sp
1 x heavy crossbow, mwk. - 175gp
1 x light crossbow - 17gp 5sp
141 x arrows - 3gp 5sp
28 x bolts - 1gp 3sp
8 x shortsword - 40gp
10 x dagger - 10gp
1 x battleaxe - 5gp
1 x greataxe - 10gp
2 x heavy mace - 6gp
1 x boarding axe - 3gp
2 x warhammer - 12gp
2 x hatchet - 8gp
1 x rapier - 10gp
2 x greatswords - 50gp
1 x pike - 0 gp 5sp
1 x boar spear - 2gp 5sp
1 x fauchard - 4gp
1 x cavalry lance - 5gp
1 x sabre - 7gp 5sp
2 x flail - 8gp
16 x javelins - 8gp

Odds and ends:
23 x trail rations - 5gp
1 x alchemist's fire - 10gp
1 x whetstone - 0gp 0sp 1cp
1 x good-quality whetstone - 0gp 0sp 5cp
2 x flint and steel - 1gp
1 x flint and steel (inferior quality) - 0gp 1 sp
2 x sacks - 1sp
1 x animal gear - 8gp
1 x casket of weirdroot - won’t buy
1 x packet weirdroot (inferior quality) - won’t buy
1 x frying pan - 0gp 4sp
1 x salt ‘n’ pepper - 0gp 0sp 5cp
1 x pouch of tobacco - 0gp 5sp
1 x ivory pipe - 0gp 5sp
1 x clay pipe - 0gp 0sp 5cp
1 x pair of leather-and-fur boots of fine quality - 2gp 5sp
1 x pendant, brass, growling warhound - 10gp
1 x silk tunic (torn) - 2gp
1 x flask of inferno vodka - 5gp
1 x necklace locket (rusted solid) - 2gp
7 x rolls of hard cheese - 7gp
4 x loaves of hard bread - 0gp 0sp 4cp
5 x ducks and other fowl - 0gp 5sp
3 x bottles of cooking oil - 0gp 3sp
6 x barrels of beer - 10gp
1 x pair of silver earrings - 150gp
1 x music box - 50gp
3 x crates of furs and hides - 150gp
1 x wooden case of liquor (8 bottles) - 40gp
1 x bottle of liquor - 5gp
1x ram’s skull (polished) - not interested
1 x strange dragon statuette - 250gp


common quality clothing and beddings (cotton, flax, hide) - 2gp
crate of stuffed animals and other plush toys - 20gp

Total: 2,591gp 3sp


"I took the liberty of... um, jotting down a reasonable price for each item", Oleg said, scratching the back of his neck. "I assure you, I studied each item to the best of my abilities. If there is magic in any of those, I cannot tell. Such things are beyond my ability - and ability to pay, to be honest."

"Which, unfortunately, includes a great amount of what you brought back from the bandits", the stern-jawed tradesman added in a sincerely apologetic tone of voice. "The opals alone are worth twice my current coin and then some. I can pay you five-hundred gold crowns up front, but beyond that you will have to wait until I have secured a buyer from Restov."

"Or, alternatively, you can leave your goods here and I will extend you credit to the value of the rest of the items", he offered after some contemplation. "I have a fair amount of contacts back in Rostland. Armorsmiths, weaponsmiths... even an alchemist and a sell-spell in Restov. I can place an order for... more exotic or costly items, but those will take a week or two to arrive."

After making sure Kesten had walked away, he leaned closer and whispered. "You do realize that some of the things you have in here are contraband? The weird-root, to be exact. I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you didn't know... but I'm an honest merchant. I won't touch the stuff."

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili lifted a curious eyebrow at what Oleg was saying, and stepped behind Deran to take a look at the note. Surely they're collection of odds and ends could not be worth that mu...

"HOLY CRAPPING GODS!" the young frontiersman yelled out the moment he saw the total amount on the slip of paper. He had heard of such amounts of gold, but to see that figure and know it was theirs... well, that was a feeling of its own entirely.

Greed is the cityfolk's curse, he was as swiftly reminded of Gennadi's words, and coughed lightly. "Uh... sorry... I was... a bit surprised by that. Yes", he coughed, trying to compose himself. "Um... Deran? I think we ought to consider not selling all of these. Some of the jewelry and valuable knick-knacks we could use to trade. Gennadi said there are kobolds and such living in these lands. Fay even... and at least in the tales they like shiny things. Same with some of the foodstuffs... not sure about the liquor, though..."

"That's for the Stag Lord, actually", Jax weighed in as he tightened the tarp with Gendry. "I've not seen him myself, but the word from Kressle and those who have... well, they said he's a demon with his drink, putting the stuff down his gullet like a dwarf with two livers. Heck, we even had a shipment of beer stashed close to the camp, but I figured everyone wanted to get out before the wolves showed up."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran stands slack-jawed at the amount, but the yell from Vasili brings him back.

"Do not blaspheme, my dear comrade. It is bad for your immortal soul. I always go for something like this:

BY ASHMODEUS BURNING PRIVY!

Let me think for a moment...First of all, I propose that good man Oleg surrenders any contraband to our valiant captain. Also, some of these items may have ...additional properties. We need help on that. Perhaps some of the nice gentlemen we saw come in? Then I am all for credit. I for one would also gladly exchange some of the loot for some new armor. I like chain mail, but I believe that a knight of my prowess and ethereal beauty"

here Deran strikes a pose, like a statue,

"should wear heavy chain. Would such a trade be acceptable?"

Is that on top of the 400 gp? Also, arcanists please step in!

[Servbot]

Aloys

Hearing these proceedings, Aloys nods to Thom reverently. "I see your Gods are not held in high reverence here," he notes dryly. "Understandable, for putting one's faith and confidence in the hopes that an aloof higher being will understand you is at best mortal folly--" His words trail off when he pauses, tilts his head slightly and asks, "You are an affiliate of the 'Lucky Drunk'... I presume you would take offence at my words?"

As far as identification of magic items goes... eh, it sounds like effort. Aloys doesn't really feel like offering a service like that. Maybe if this group were going to head out into the Stolen Lands. Now, that might be payment worth going through useless knick-knacks to determine if some half-drunk idiot wizard gave away his arcane secrets, but...

[Angstrom]

Walker doesn't seem to be focusing on the discussion with Garess at all. His gaze has wandered to the fox that sits patiently at his side, specifically the thing's aura. He had first noticed it when walking past the new arrival at the message boards and now the spiritual aura was all he could see.
You have the sight, Saint Walker
Trying not to overreact, Walker breaths with purpose. Hearing the voices reassurance, he brings his gaze around to look for any other auras, but is shocked back to normal perception by Vasili's outburst.

"Golden Eggs of Erebus. That's some kind of coin." Walker shrugs his shoulders, "Sorry, but I'm no help with that. First we ought to carry these perishables inside."

As he hoists the crates of food over his shoulder Walker lets out a grunt of surprise. Vertigo sets in as the crate becomes lighter and the ground seems to move farther away. Dizzy, he moves to sit down on the cart but stumbles as it is much lower than he expected. Walker only has a few moments with which to stare at his increased size before Nu leaps into his lap and he returns to normal size.
Did we not say that you were chosen?
"...That's some fox."

Walker grew up too poor to know how much you can buy with coin like that, and it doesn't yet make sense for him to put an order in for scrolls.

Nu activates Detect Magic then Enlarge Person to help move the gear.

Sorry if the 'discovery of magic' thing is disruptive, but I've never had the chance to play it before. He's already had his call to adventure and refusal of the call. This is just the supernatural aid that sets off the main motivation and won't take very long.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Walters Perendale

Tessa, Jeoff and the half-orc twins looked at each other, as if seeking comfirmation and approval from one another. Brigands they may have been, but there was definitely a feeling of kinship between them.

"Well... It beats the heck out of being hanged. If you can make him do that, it's a deal", Tessa said - just when a sound of commotion and surprised yells came from the courtyard. "Huh. What's going on in there?" she asked, pushing herself up on her keister, trying to peer through the door flap.

The courtyard

Walker's sudden growth spurt sends Oleg staggering back in surprise, actually falling down on his tailbone as he trips on the stacked javelins. He stares up with wide eyes at the giant-sized man, along with the guards on duty. It almost looks like one of the trigger-happier guards is about to pull his crossbow up when Walker returns to his regular size again.

@Walker:
As Walker looks around, he can see several... auras emanating from the stacks around him. One rises from the odd, egg-shaped statuette of writhing dragons, another from the ram's skull sitting on top of one of the crates, and a few oters from the stack of jewelry and gems. Even the stag-horn-and-arrows shield and the weirdroot give faint glimmers of magic.

If he keeps watching, the emanations rising from the jewelry grow more dominant, his eyes focusing on the brass pendant of a snarling hound. The sensation is akin to hearing the sound of silver hunting horns over the horizon. The other auras are much fainter - the egg-shaped statue's aura tastes like rancid oil, as does the kite shield's. The silver ear rings also emanate a slight aura, one that smells like herbs and tea. The ram's skull proves the weakest. It's as if all the other auras except the pendants are like an after-image... residual, weak, or perhaps merely deeply dormant.

[shugyosha]

Walters

"Sit back down, Red. You don't want to give them any reason to think that you might be escaping. I'll take a look," he says to Tessa.

Peering outside Walters watch Walker change his size back to his original state. Seeing that thing were getting back to normal. "Walker is causing a ruckus. That's all," he explains. "I'll be back to check up on you guys later."

Walters leaves the prisoners and heads to the others. Mostly, he's interested in choosing his reward but still is curious about what had happened. "Walker, what just happened here?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran blinks in surprise and steps back as Walker suddenly grows in ... everything. he tries to find the source of this and looks around bewildered. He then approaches Walker, who seems to be staring at the loot, carefully.

"Eeeeh Walker... are you alright? Because, and I hate to tell you that, you have grown in size"

In a second look, he notices a man with a hat and a staff. He calls to him.

"Excuse me kind sir. Without meaning to impose upon your time, you seem a knowledgeable man. Could you perhaps give us your expert advice?"

[Angstrom]

"Right, that was something."
Use your gift Saint Walker
Walker smiles weakly at Walters and Deran. "In some circles I think they call that magic. Wasn't me. Well, yeah, it was, but it was because of Nu. The fox, its called Nu; its not a fox. My gammy used to talk about the forest spirits. She said they took the forms of normal creatures, but she also said they like to lead children away, never to be seen again."

Walker cuts off his rambling and smiles again, the vertigo had passed quickly and he was relieved the others had actually seen it happen. Hadn't lost his marbles yet. That was a positive at least.

As Deran calls the magician over, Walker taps Walters on the shoulders and points to each of the items that had felt... strange? The whole thing was strange, but those ones were more strange.

"You might want to get a wizard to take a closer look at that shield. Those pieces of finery too."

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Wait wait... You are saying that the fox made you grow to the size of a hill giant?" Vasili asked incredulously, looking both at the haggard man and the fox by his side. Looking into the fox's eyes proved... somewhat a daunting experience to the young man. Sure, he had heard the children's tales as well... but to look at a creature that someone actually considered a forest spirit in the flesh, now that was something else entirely. "Please tell me if Nu's pissed off at me at some point, will you? I'd rather not wake up one morning and find myself turned into a toad."

GM Post

While Vasili was having his staring contest with Nu, Oleg had climbed back on his feet and was wiping off dust from his posterior. "Uh... yes, yes, master Deran. You would certainly look quite dashing in chainmail", he said, trying to gather his composure. It was Walker's mention of magic items that made him frown, though. "Hmm, that's tricky, then. I will have to remedy my calculations if they are indeed magical. And it looks like you're in for quite a lot of store credit."

Oleg fell silent for a moment before looking up at Deran again. "Speaking of which... I'd be willing to extend even further credit to you if you could do something for me. You see, last time the bandits came here before you fellows came along, they didn't just take my goods. The man leading them - the one young master Kozhek over there killed with a single shot - also took my dear Svetlana's wedding band. Now I know she says it's alright, that it doesn't matter whether she has a ring on her finger or not - but I know she would want it back. I want her to have it back. It's just a small golden ring, but it's special to us. I worked for months to earn it for her, and she never took it off - until it was stolen from her."

"Before Kesten had him hanged, Hansel told me that the ring was lost to the bandits as well. He said some mites stole the ring and other goods from their camp, and when they hired some goblins to steal those things back, the creatures instead came back with some odd bits of bones - and the egg statuette over there. Please... I know it's asking much, but if you can track down those mites and get my wife's ring back, I'd make it worth your while."

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

"Oh hardly. Though I ought to point out - for instance - that swearing in the name of my god's codpiece doesn't necessarily amount to a lack of reverence. In fact, it could mean the exact opposite," says Thom lazily. "Your attention seems to be called for, by the way."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"Chainmail I already have, master Oleg and it is so last year. I was thinking of half-plate, actually. This is the armor for the up and coming, dashingly handsome young knight. Would that be possible?

And if it is possible, we will get you your ring. Stay assured."

Deran once again calls at the strange young man talking with the other newcomer, who offered to give his prayers for their fallen comrade.

"Kind sirs, once again I ask. Please, both of you, would you care to join us?"

[shugyosha]

Walters



As Deran calls the magician over, Walker taps Walters on the shoulders and points to each of the items that had felt... strange? The whole thing was strange, but those ones were more strange.

"You might want to get a wizard to take a closer look at that shield. Those pieces of finery too."

The large man nods in understanding, then says to the magician, "Hey magic man, take a look at the shield and these other things if you will. Tell us what magic they might hold." Remembering to be polite he adds, "Please."

[Servbot]

Aloys

"... Quite," Aloys sighs in response. With this many people hollering at him, no way he can just slink off to the background. The complaints he'd hear! All night! All day! It'd be never-ending!

See that guy, with the hat?
Yeah him.
Wouldn't even help us.
The bastard.

It could all be foreseen.

"... Understood," and, wandering over to the pile of items, begins wordlessly examining them for magic.

Detect Magic, how many spellcraft checks? :P

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

As per Walker's instructions, Gendry separated a handful of items from the rest of the gear, piling them on one of the tables. There were six items in total: an egg-shaped statuette of ivory, with writhing dragons covering its surface; a pair of long and elongated silver earrings, still glittering in the morning sunlight; a brass pendant bearing the stylized likeness of a snarling warhound; a polished ram's skull, with "tears" of candlewax still on its cheekbones; a casket containing weirdroot; and the old but intricately adorned kite shield bearing a stag's-skull insignia, a longsword cross-wise and two crossed arrows beneath the shield's bronze boss on a field of sable.

@Aloys:
All items register as magical in your arcane sight, with various levels of power. The brass pendant's magic registers the strongest, along with the ivory statuette. The ivory egg bears faint traces of all schools of magic, and a faint but noticeable touch of evil - like a film of oil clinging on the surface of water.

The rest of the items seem to bear residual or lesser magics - a "touch" of their previous owners, perhaps? The ram's skull is touched by necromancy, conjuration and divination; the silver earrings bear a touch of abjuration. The weirdroot bears a touch of divination, enchantment and necromancy. The kite shield's magic seems long-faded, a mere shadow of an arcane touch's passing. Of all the items, only the brass pendant and the ear rings seem to carry any sort of active magic within them. The ivory egg remains a mystery, its complex magics evident but faint.

So that'll be six Spellcraft checks, one for each item.

"Well? Is there any magic in them?" Oleg broke the silence, looking at the wizard and the items on the table with equal amount of excitement and fear.

[Servbot]

Aloys

Gives a morose expression.

"Yes," the wizard nods. He sets about identifying the actual effects of these items. It is, after all, never sufficient just to tell there's magic in it. No, you need to identify the magic, and determine if it's helpful or harmful.

SC1: [roll0]
SC2: [roll1]
SC3: [roll2]
SC4: [roll3]
SC5: [roll4]
SC6: [roll5]

Identifying in order of displayed.

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Watching in faint amusement as his scholarly companion is press-ganged into examining the more unusual of the goods, Thom folds his arms and considers the immense pile before him. "That's a lot of wares you've got there, master Oleg. Spoils of war, I take it?"

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Spoils of exploration, actually", the young flamehair of a settler answered before Oleg got a word in. "Taken from a bandit camp not far from here. Bastards were squeezing master Leveton for protection money, in the name of some bandit king who calls himself 'the Stag Lord'. We put a stop to that - albeit at a price", the young man spoke, taking a look at the guest house where the pale witch was being tended to by the half-elf cleric. "One man dead, two leaving back for Restov... and a fourth staying here at Oleg's. We're going to be shorthanded if we are to properly map and secure this land for settling."

@Aloys:
The ivory statuette seems to be beyond Aloys's ability to decipher. What he can tell, however, is that a lot of magic was put into the statuette, containing it in some shape or form. It does not exhibit any form of active magic, however.

The earrings prove to contain a minor abjuration of... protection, of a sort. Namely that of protecting their wearer of an unwanted pregnancy.

The brass pendant proves to hold a potent spell indeed: with the correct command word, the pendant's wearer can summon a celestial hound, as per the spell summon monster I. The hound can be summoned for up to an hour per day, at a minimum increment of one minute.

The ram's skull reveals nothing.

The weirdroot reveals nothing beyond its current state. Knowledge (Arcana) to remember potential uses.

The stag's-skull shield shows only residual magic and no active spell effect. It is possible that the shield was in close proximity to a more potent and active form of magic, and the touch of magic is a "rub-off" from that source. Or simply that the magic used to enchant the shield has simply worn off over time.

DC 20 Knowledge (Nobility) or Knowledge (History) or DC 22 Knowledge (Local):
The device on the kite shield bears passing resemblance to certain Issian coat-of-arms, their names lost to time and the turmoils created by Choral the Conqueror and his red dragon allies two centuries ago. The stories speak of a noble house that was cursed by a Varisian Harrower, whom the patriarch of the family slew for his readings. The line is thought to be extinguished in a frenzy of mad kinslaying decades ago, while some whisper that some offshoot of the family - perhaps the patriarch himself - escaped into the Stolen Lands to build a realm of his own, with a barbarian princess as a bride and a sickly babe to carry the family name.

[Servbot]

Aloys

The wizard brushes the shield off to one side, pointing. "Mistake," he says by way of clarification, but nodding to the rest of the pile, "Magical."

With a glance at Vasili, Aloys remembers his master's directions. At any cost. Well, it looked like these people were going in, and charting it? That means they'd be likely to come across these ruins.

"I'll go with," Aloys offers. "The Professor is... interested in the Stolen Lands."

[North_Ranger]

Vasili

Vasili turned to look at the sparingly-speaking man who was going over the items Walker had said were magical. "I don't know who this Professor of yours is, sir... but if you can pull your own weight... what do you think, Deran?" he asked, turning to look at the knight.

"Anyways... The name's Vasili Kozhek, and the smiling guy over there's Deran Orlovsky. The fellow with the fox is Walker, and that large fellow with an equally-sized weapon is Walters. What's your name, then, stranger?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"What I always say, Vasili. The more, the merrier. Plus, our dancing routine was not the same with two people missing. Our 'Girls of Varisia' act was never up to our standards. Perhaps you sir, with the connections Up Above would also consider working with us? We offer sleepless nights, daily brush with death, bad jokes and the occasional corpse tossing. All of that, for uncertain rewards and outdoors living. Who could refuse?

So... welcome to our merry band. I am the good looking guy, Vasili is the decisive guy, Walters is the deadly guy and Walker is our ...surprising guy. What have you found on the items? On of those has given my waking nightmares."

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"The jade coin you got from that disappearing spell-slinger, you mean? I don't think our fancy-hatted associate took a look at that, Deran", Vasili offered with a smile.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"Yes, that was the one. But I think it was also something else the skull thing also".

[shugyosha]

Walters

Seeing how things were getting on, the big man leaves the group to talk amongst themselves. He heads for the weapons cart and picks out two weapons as his reward, a sword and a new fauchard.

Once he stows his new equipment he heads back to the prisoners tent. "Hey Red," he says, "Oleg is looking for a small golden ring that was taking from his wife. Hansel said the ring went missing, someone stole the ring with some other goods from your camp. Then goblins were hired to get it back but all they brought back was garbage. You happen to remember that?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Tessa rolled her eyes and let out a derisive snort. "Yeah, I remember that. Buncha ugly-lookin' critters stole into camp some time ago. Mites, Kressle said they was. Looked like a buncha cold-frakked blueberry men to me, really. Kressle pulled some strings, said the gobs were supposed to get our stuff back - but they came back with only some junk and some weird paperweight. Why d'ya ask?"

[Servbot]

Aloys

A little overwhelmed, Aloys steps back from the group a bit, carefully considering (and letting them talk among themselves) before he chimes in: "Aloys."

With a gesture to the items, he mentions, "Nothing for nightmares. Helpful, all." He points to the statuette. "Unsure. Dormant magic. Professor would know, probably."

He's not too sure about any coins and nightmares. If anything, the statuette might've given nightmares, but it's customary in the common tongue to refer to 'getting nightmares' even when there is no sleeping involved, right? As in, 'That woman is giving me nightmares!', even if the implication is that he dreamt of her, which in some cultures is considered romantic.

[shugyosha]

Walters

"There's some talk about looking for it. What else did they take? And you know what direction the Mites are from your camp?"

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili couldn't help but shake his head at the newcomer and his unwillingness to speak up about the magic items. Not the sharpest arrow in the quiver, is he?

"Very well", he tried with his best calm and diplomatic tone. "You say they are useful. Can you tell us what they actually do?" he asked, as slowly and clearly as possible.

GM Post

"Odds and ends, mostly. Some coin and jewelry we took from the trader outside", Tessa answered plainly, nodding towards the doorflap. "Nothing Kressle thought valuable enough to go after ourselves, I think. She didn't tell us much. Not that we couldn't find the blighters ourselves, mind you. Everybody knows to steer clear of the old sycamore where they dwell. Can't miss it if you see it, damn thing can be seen for miles around. Just head south from our old camp, and keep goin'. When ya start seein' dead mites an' dead kobolds, you're gettin' there."

OOC thread will be updated with a map.

[Servbot]

Aloys

The wizard frowns at the man and his slow speech. He's pretty sure the man talked a lot faster before. Is this the thing where people treat you like an idiot?

"I'm not stupid," he just offers, then pointing at each of the items in turn, "Can't tell, but lot of magic invested. Guards against pregnancy. Summons celestial hound; Dangerous in wrong hands. Ran out of magic," and gesturing to the other items, "Need more time."

Then, tilting his head, the wizard asks, "Sir Kozhek, are you the leader?"

Order: Statuette, earrings, pendant, shield, rest.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Alright, thank you. That's what we wanted to hear", Vasili answered the arcanist with a polite nod. When he was asked if he was the leader - let alone that the man called him "sir" - he just looked at the man and let out an amused snort of laughter.

"Piss on your sirs, friend. I have no desires for that sort of frippery. But no, I'm no leader. We don't really have one, truth be told. Me and Deran here, we're just the most prone to start gabbing. Why do you ask?"

[shugyosha]

Walters

"Thanks Red," he says with a nod and then rejoins the others. "Hey, I think I know where to start looking for that ring," he says to anyone willing to listen.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Well that's good news at least", Vasili answered Walters's call with a smile. "Better a good lead than having to comb through every inch of the Greenbelt."

GM Post

If and when everyone feels the present conversation is slowing down, let's speed up the evening. Free for all, folks. Lemme know how you intend to spend the rest of the day and the following night.

[Angstrom]

"Sorry about that, he's probably right about the shield." Walker apologizes to Walters.

Watching with interest as the magician does his work, Walker nods in quiet agreement when the big man suggests tracking down the Leveton's missing ring. "More interesting than drawing a map."

Walker will meet the new settlers but leave Nu behind. Try being normal after the burst of magic. He'll let the self-labeled gabbers do the recruiting.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Once the matter of the magical items was settled to everyone's satisfaction, Oleg was more than willing to adjust his offer accordingly. Aloys's words about the shield being dangerous in the wrong hands made him withdraw his offer on the glorious kite shield, but he was willing to cough up an extra hundred gold crowns in credit for the 'protective' earrings. "I'm willing to bet there's some noblewoman in Restov or New Stetven who'd pay handsomely for such a pair", he had joked.

Once the matter was closed, he and Gendry started to carry the goods to the Levetons' storage shed - and bring back the goods the group had decided to buy. Which, quite frankly, was a significant amount of his storage. Trail rations, all of the food, lamps, a tent... all that and more was then loaded to the wagon as the group dispersed for the day.

Walker

Nu had whined and yipped in disappointment when Walker had left the little fox behind, but his newfound companion had not followed him. What Walker did find outside the gates, however, was a small wagon circle of hopeful Rostlander peasants. Three families in total - the Gorkys, the Ivanoffs and the Zhukovs. Talking with them, he learned they had all come from the northern parts of Rostland, hoping to make a better life for themselves in the Stolen Lands. The menfolk had gotten work at the Post, helping to rebuild Oleg's shambling palisade and other defenses, while the womenfolk were anxious about finding a good place to settle and plant their seeds.

"At least we have an Erastili with us", one of the women - the heavily pregnant Tatyana - commented as he brought Walker some ale. "At least, I hope he will stay with us. Father Jhod has been antsy ever since he got here. Looking for something, he is. Master Leveton sent him to meet Bokken, some crazy hermit who lives close by - but he oughta be back soon. I hope."

Vasili

While Walker made his presence known to the new arrivals, Vasili secluded himself from the others at the guest house and got to work. He had made some special orders to Oleg - ones that had made the tradesman look at him like he had just sprouted another head that was now yodeling - but he had also come to the Stolen Lands prepared. Retrieving three small casks he had brought with him from Restov, Vasili got to work near the fireplace, filling the guesthouse with the smell of sulphur and bubbling lead. Clipping and brushing new shots, he went through the calculations twice in his head. He only had a limited supply of the raw materials, and he didn't want to wast them.

Or blow the guesthouse up. That would be bad too. Oleg would surely be pissed.

At least he had something to test a small pinch of black powder with. He had chosen to keep the rusted locket they had found at the bandit camp. Maybe a little cleaning and a test pop would open it...

[shugyosha]

Walters

The large man runs to catch up with Oleg. "Hey, Oleg. Do you know where I might get some healing potions?"

[North_Ranger]

Walters

"You'll want Bokken for that", Oleg answered without so much as a second thought. "He's a young fellow, living a hermit's life about ten miles southeast from here. Bit of an odd one, he is, but ain't no one this side of Restov who knows the healing herbs and such better than him. That or I can order you some from Restov, along with the knight's armor."

[shugyosha]

Walters

"10 miles? Not the most convenient place for a healer. If I can convince some of the others to go for a supply run to Bokken would you like us to get you some healing potions as well? They would be a highly prized commodity in the dangerous frontier that we are in."

[North_Ranger]

"Thank you, but I don't think that's necessary", Oleg answered with a smile. "We have an arrangement, Bokken and I. He brings me some of his concoctions every fortnight, and I give him the supplies he needs. He oughta be coming here in about a week's time."

[Angstrom]

"At least we have an Erastili with us", one of the women - the heavily pregnant Tatyana - commented as he brought Walker some ale. "At least, I hope he will stay with us. Father Jhod has been antsy ever since he got here. Looking for something, he is. Master Leveton sent him to meet Bokken, some crazy hermit who lives close by - but he oughta be back soon. I hope."

"Thank you for your kindness. I have been in the company of a grim type of folk for what seems like a very long time. More violence and strangeness in a week than in a year back home. I hope my group stays long enough for me to meet Father Jhod, I could use a shepherd right now."

[shugyosha]

Walters

"Hopefully we can wait that long. How much are?" he asks as he reaches for his money pouch.

[North_Ranger]

Walters

"That we can discuss once Bokken gets here", Oleg said with a shake of his hand, refusing the money at this juncture. "Sometimes he surprises with some of his concoctions. Wouldn't be proper of me to charge you for something he might not deliver."

Walker

"As would I", Tatyana answered with no small touch of worry in her eyes, her hand coming to rest on her bulging belly. It didn't take a healer to tell it was only a matter of time before she was due to give birth.

As Walker talked with the settlers, there seemed to be some similarities in their tales despite them coming from separate villages. All were relatively young, with the exception of Tatyana's mother- and father-in-law, a crochety old couple sitting by the fire to keep their aching joints warm. All had been caught up in the nobles' games in some way - the Gorkys had lost their farm to a raiding party (whom everybody knew but couldn't prove they were men-at-arms of their liege lord's rival); the Ivanoffs had barely eked out a living under the heavy tax burden; and the brother of Igor Zhukov had been hanged as a poacher. All of them had come to the Stolen Lands in the hopes of escaping further such predation from the highborn.

Come morning...

The rest of the day passed relatively quietly. Relatively, as more than once the calm of the day was interrupted by small booms coming from the guesthouse, where Vasili was conducting his experiments. One such bang was rather loud too, sending a shower of sparks and soot from the chimney, and a puff of smoke from every window and doorway. For a moment it had been completely silent, until the redhaired frontiersman had appeared in the doorway, his hair and moustache standing up, his face and front of his shirt covered in black soot. His eyes stood out in his darkened face, and after a few dumbfounded blinks he split a small smile and cheerily announced "I'm alright. I did that on purpose" before going back inside.

The following morning came as a bright, crispy day of early spring. Bright sunshine caressed the tents and the palisade, birds chirping in the bushes. In the mainhouse where Deran maintained his vigil, Kesten appeared dressed in his armor and his finest coat and tabard. "When you are ready", the mercenary captain spoke calmly, two of his men appearing with a stretcher.

In the guesthouse, Vasili and Dhovanu were waking the others up. It was time for them to say their final farewells to Gedriwyn...

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"I am readt, sir Knight. You have my thanks for that."

Deran rises slowly, small groans escaping from his joints. Nevertheless, he follows the procession.

[North_Ranger]

The funeral procession of Gedriwyn was a short but solemn affair. With two of Kesten Garess's men holding the stretchers on their shoulders, they carried the cleaned and armor-clad corpse of the dead cavalier into the crisp morning outside. First touches of sunlight glittered upon the torn but polished breastplate and on the steel of the knight's blade, resting on top of his chest. Despite the paleness of death upon his face, Gedriwyn looked to be in peace.

Carrying the corpse out of the fort, the group was joined by the Levetons, Oleg with a fur cap on his head and a black cloak on his shoulders, Svetlana with her hair hidden under a black scarf and wearing a simple grey dress. Sam and the Levetons' stable boy followed after them. Outside the palisade, some of the hunters and settlers were up and waiting, standing in respectful silence and taking off their caps as the deceased was carried past them.

In the previous day, Dhovanu had found a good spot to bury the deceased knight. A small, grass-strewn hillock just a little walk south of Oleg's, with the first pale flowers of spring rising among the tufts of green and brown. She was already waiting there with two of Kesten's men, the grave dug and a slim, gnome-sized stone waiting to be erected as a makeshift gravestone. Gedriwyn had come to the Stolen Lands to tame them: now his grave would stand sentinel on its northern border until the end of time.

The burial was a quiet, simple affair, with Elanore singing a Sarenite hymn for the departed as Gedriwyn was lowered into the earth. Stepping aside, the half-elven cleric gave the floor to anyone wishing to offer parting words for their lost companion...

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran has been walking behind the cask during the procession. When they lowered him onto the ground, and after the humns have been sung, he once again kneels and throws a handful of dirt into the grave. He says, solemnly

"Rest well, sir knight. We will meet again in the next world and perhaps, we will fight again together there."

He then steps backwards. He has said his goodbuyes before.

[shugyosha]

Walters

The large man stood silent with his hands folded in front of him. His somber expression was his sign of respect for the fallen brother in arms.

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Having spent the previous night performing libations for the dead knight, Thom refrains from tossing back another drink for the moment. Although he'd presided over burials before where the faithful had broken fine wines and beers over the head of the coffin in one last rousing hurrah, this far from the ocean and established alehouses of the Lucky Drunk, it would have hardly been proper.

He settles for a respectful prayer in silence to his god. Fighter for the Free, guide this man to peace in his next life.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

After Deran had stepped away from the grave's edge, Vasili stepped in. He had cleaned himself up after the incident of the evening, and even though he had no better clothes to put on for such a solemn occasion, he still took off his cap. Kneeling to take a handful of dirt, he stood looking at Gedriwyn's pale face.

He looks so peaceful...

Sighing a little, the young man sprinkled the handful of dirt into the grave.

"I didn't get to know you well... but I know you were a good man. May Erastil guide you on the right path to your rest."

After that, Vasili stepped back in line.

[Angstrom]

Walker offers a soft amen to Vasili's blessing, but doesn't speak a word. He hadn't known Gedriwyn at all save for those unpleasant days of killing that had taken the knight's life.

[Servbot]

Aloys

The wizard stands back and doesn't offer himself up. In the first place, he didn't quite know the man, and in the second place, would it not be more prudent to raise the man from the dead if he would be sorely missed? Aloys didn't quite comprehend why this simple solution was not used.

Perhaps these people did not know a caster with the appropriate knowledge, or money was truly an issue. Perhaps they merely pretended to like the dead man and are actually indifferent to see him go.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

After these solemn farewells, the funeral procession turned to walk back to Oleg's Post, leaving Kesten's men with the duty of filling the grave and erecting the makeshift headstone.

For a moment it was completely silent, save for the shuffle and clank of shoes and armored boots, until Svetlana coughed a little and looked up at the charter men.

"Milords", Oleg's wife spoke up. "Now that we've done right by the dead, I think we should do right by the living, too. Despite Sir Gedriwyn's death, you did us all a great favor by taking out Kressle. And we're not going to forget that. Me and Sam... we've been preparing a feast in thanks. Besides, we could all use a little cheering up. Me and Oleg... those poor people in the tents... and well... frankly told, you too. So will you join us?"

"Better do as she asks", Oleg stepped in with a smile and a pat on his wife's shoulder. "Svetlana here has been worried sick for you. If you don't let her do this, none of us will ever hear the end of it."

"OLEG!" Svetlana snapped at her husband, slapping him on his broad chest. But still, there was a smile on her lips when she 'scolded' the smiling tradesman.

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili stifled his laughter at the exchange between the married couple, but he did turn to look at his companions.

"I don't think there's any harm in that", the young frontiersman said with a shrug. "We still have to decide where to head next. Might as well have us something to eat and drink while at it."

[Angstrom]

"You go on ahead. I'll be with you soon." Walker takes a shovel from one of the guardsmen to do his part in burying Gedriwyn. Its not much, but it shows respect to both to the dead knight and the living guardsmen who can't be happy to be digging the graves of strangers.


Back at the trading post, Walker is quiet as the others discuss where to travel next. If pressed he suggests scouting the land around the trading post first before starting a comprehensive attempt at mapping any of it. Become familiar with the inhabitants and try to sniff out more clues about the Stag Lord. He is not eager to pursue a violent confrontation with the mites that stole Svetlana's ring.

[shugyosha]

Walters

The large man walked away from the funeral as silent as he did coming to it. He was in his best clothes, bathed, and the five days of stubble removed. While still large and imposing there was something a bit more civilized about his look.

"Any meal cook by you is a celebration, much less than a feast," he says to Svetlana.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"Then it's settled!" Svetlana declared, slapping her hands together to signal the end of discussion. "We'll have to borrow your porter, though, there is going to be plenty of work!"

Plenty of work indeed... Svetlana pretty much commandeered anyone willing to offer a helping hand - including some of the settler daughters, Elanore and even one unfortunate soldier of Kesten's who ended up carrying wooden plates and tin steins to the tables, all the while his comrades where snickering at his domestic duties. To Svetlana's credit though, the woman was a hell of an organizer. Before an hour had passed since their return to the courtyard, the tables were set, barrels of beer had been rolled out, and Svetlana herself was minding over a cauldron of aromatic stew bubbling over the firepit. And that wasn't all: loaves of black bread, soft cheeses, mushrooms and leeks still glistening from cooking, carrots glazed with honey, peas porridge with onions... Svetlana had gone all-out to bring life back to the fort, not to mention make sure that no one would be leaving the feast with an empty belly.

No small task that one, either... Not only were the charter men (now including the newly-invited arcanist and priest), but so were Kesten's men, the settlers and even the hunters. Nine Hells, the woman had somehow convinced Kesten to let even the captured bandits join the feast - without shackles, too. The courtyard was a-buzz with activity, Svetlana orchestrating it all and accepting no excuses for anyone to leave the tables.

"Sorry about all that", Sam said sheepishly as he came to ladle the fragrant stew of mutton, rabbit, onions and carrots in a thick, beer-spiced jus onto the plates of the group. "She's been a little nervous, and that seems to put her in a mood. That's what Master Oleg says anyways... Not that he's any less nervous. Mistress Svetlana was all at sixes and sevens last night, over wanting to make him something nice to calm his nerves... moon radish soup, she said. But she didn't have none of 'em radishes left."

"Pity that... There used to be some growing near the camp. Until Kressle found them."

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

"Ma'am? You're a regular goddess with the spices. I hereby decree that you and your stove must never be parted and I shall personally duel anyone who ever says anything bad about your cooking. This is superb."

Thom hadn't had such a good meal since leaving Brevoy. So it turns out that there were perks to being out here in the Stolen Lands after all. If Svetlana was the one feeding the fort, he could definitely get used to this.

He scratches his nose and sighs happily, silently calling the Brawler's blessing down on the brew that Svetlana was serving. He could probably manage another cheese.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"Bless your heart, you sweet-talker", Svetlana laughed at Thom's praise, though the way her lips perked up and her cheeks blushed, it was clear that his praise had hit its mark.

Not to mention that Svetlana put another scoop of the stew on his plate and filled his stein again.

It also seemed like some of the people were getting quite deep into the festival atmosphere - and as a result, quite boisterous. One of them was the flame-haired ex-bandit Tessa, who got up after finishing her stein, climbed over the table and into the clearing between tables. She was grinning like a mountain cat ready to pounce, her hair wild and free, her stance that of a brawler.

"C'mon, it ain't a party without some good tusslin'!" she called out over the hubbub and laughter of the courtyard. "Ain't you got a man here amongst ya, huh? C'mon, I'll wrassle any man who's got the balls to take me on!"

"I'll show you some wrestling, cut-throat", Kesten answered, getting up with the cheer of his men. With the help of his squire, he peeled out of his breastplate and stepped into the clearing, cracking his knuckles and sizing up the dancing spitfire. "Then maybe I'll show you some other kind of wrOOF!"

The match was over before Kesten even realized it had begun. Though smaller and weaker than the nobleman, Tessa was a demon of speed. She had simply launched herself at Kesten's feet, using the momentum to literally make Kesten kiss the ground - or in this case, the puddle of spilt stew one of the settler's children had dropped. Kesten cursed and spat, his face covered in stew as he got up to his feet, his men laughing with everyone else.

"Good effort but no 'other kind' for that, pretty boy", Tessa laughed, actually giving Kesten an audible slap on his ass as he slinked off. "Awright, who's next?!"

[shugyosha]

Walters


"She's been a little nervous, and that seems to put her in a mood. That's what Master Oleg says anyways... Not that he's any less nervous. Mistress Svetlana was all at sixes and sevens last night, over wanting to make him something nice to calm his nerves... moon radish soup, she said. But she didn't have none of 'em radishes left."

"Pity that... There used to be some growing near the camp. Until Kressle found them."

The large man looks up and says, "She had a thing for radish?"

[North_Ranger]

Walters

"Hells, I've never met anyone who didn't have a thing for moon radishes", Sam answered with a chuckle and a toss of his head. "Have you ever tasted one? So sweet and succulent that you can't stop eatin' them, if you eat them raw. Not even if you know you're going to be bloated in the gut and then crap like an over-eaten elk for three days", he continued while filling everyone's plates. "Kressle was no different... and she took it out on us over the next three days."

"That's why you gotta cook 'em first. Still tasty as hell, but without the bloating and the crapping", the young man continued, licking his lips at the memory. "Say... couldn't you bring Svetlana some if you find any? I mean, you are heading back to the Narlmarches, right?"

[shugyosha]

Walters

"Well you tell me what to look for I'll keep my eyes out for it. As for where we head out, I'm not sure where the others what to go."

[North_Ranger]

Walters

"Well you tell me what to look for I'll keep my eyes out for it. As for where we head out, I'm not sure where the others what to go."

"Well, look for sunny spots in the woods... at least, that's where I've seen 'em grow. You can tell it's a moon radish if they've got leaves shaped like a crescent. That's all I can tell you, sorry."

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"C'mon! No one! How about you, Smiler? Big Guy? Red?" Tessa kept urging, taking a look at Deran, Walters and Vasili in turn. When no one answered his challenge, the redhaired ex-bandit cursed and spat on the ground. "Buncha pansies, the lot of ya. You might as well put on a pretty dress like Sam and let 'im braid your hair", she spat out, half-joking, half-pissed. Cursing, he went back to the bandits' table, where Jeof said something to her and started lifting his hand up and down on his lap. Nobody in the charter group's table could hear what the man said, but Tessa was apparently none too pleased about it, as she went and clocked the man right in the nose, sending him flying on his back.

As the more raucous part of the festival gave way to full bellies and appreciating burps, two of the settlers came back with a drum and a fiddle, starting to play as the youngsters of the families set to dancing. Even Oleg and Svetlana stepped onto the clearing, Svetlana apparently insisting that they take the chance to dance as well.

"Excuse me", a new voice broke in behind the charter group. "You wouldn't be the people sent from Restov? The swordlords' men?" When they turned to look, the charter men could see a tall, balding man with a two-day shave and a thick moustache, leaning on a long, sturdy walking stick. His clothes were ordinary and travel-worn, the warm cloak on his shoulders faded green and threadbare. Behind his back peeked the upper end of a bow and a full quiver.

Thom recognized the man right away: Jhod Kavken, the Erastili cleric who had arrived only a day or two before him.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran enjoys the festival very much, talking with as many people as he can and helping with as many chores as he can. When Tessa offers a wrestling match, he half bows

"I would never wrestle a lady, especially if I could lose in front of a crowd. But when the music starts, I will most happily compete with you in the dance floor and may the Gods have mercy on your soul then!"

After all, Dancing is Cha based, no?

Then the music makers appear and Deran gets ready, when the cleric interrupts. Deran sighs dramatically.

"Alas, the Gods will not have me display my dancing prowess... Yes, Father, we are these men! Brave, efficient and good looking, look no further! How can we assist you?"

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

Yup, Perform (dance) is Cha based.

Jhod looked a little taken aback by Deran's bubbling verbiage, but he let the matter slide.

"Allow me to introduce myself... Jhod Kavken, humble servant of Erastil", he said with a polite but brief nod. "I was told to look for you once I returned to Oleg's Post. There was a rider on the South Rostland Road, a man bearing the Aldori sigil. His horse had gone lame, and he asked me to deliver this to you."

With that, Jhod produced a small, sealed envelope and handed it to Deran. The symbol pressed into the red wax marked it as a missive from the Swordlords.

The contents of the letter:
To the brave men and women of the Greenbelt Charter,

On behalf of the Swordlords of Restov and acting upon the authority of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, we request a report of your current situation in regards of the charter and the tasks outlined therein. We have reports from Sir Kesten Garess, informing that you have arrived at the fortification known as Oleg's Post and have begun curbing the bandit activity in the region. If this is so, we commend you for your actions. Please corroborate Sir Kesten's information as soon as possible. In particular, confirm or deny information involving the figure called "the Stag Lord". Sir Kesten speaks of him as some manner of warlord.

In addition, we request that you follow upon a lead we have found. Based on reports of Sir Kesten and others, we have received news of significant kobold activity in the northern Greenbelt. To date, they have not posed a significant threat, but now we have reports of kobolds raiding supplies from traders and even stealing from outriders heading out to the Kamelands. We urge you to investigate these events and make sure the kobolds pose no further threat to trade and our operations in the Greenbelt. Whether you do this by means of diplomacy or by the sword is up to you. Rest assured, your efforts will be appropriately remunerated upon your success.

Make haste in answering this missive. Time is of the essence.

Grigori Veress,
secretary of auxiliaries

"There is also another... private matter I would ask of you", Jhod continued. "I have heard rumors and tales of lost Erastili temples here in the Stolen Lands. Particularly of one quite impressive temple, guarded by some manner of a guardian beast - a bear of significant proportions and wrath. I have yet to locate such a temple myself, and I would be most grateful of any sign of such a place. Perhaps you would be willing to tell me, if you see such a place while on your journey?"

[Angstrom]

After his shift as an undertaker is finished, Walker makes an unrefined effort to tidy himself up before joining the others for the meal. He is content to swap stories with the settlers and quick to second Thom's pronouncement of approval at the quality of the feast. It seems like he'll be able to forget the Stolen Lands for the night, but when he sees Deran being handed a letter marked with the swordlord's seal he joins the paladin.

"So Smiler, news from Restov? Walker, by the way." Walker extends a hand to the cleric-***-postman.

[Servbot]

Aloys

His nose turned up and gaze full of disdain, Aloys watches the tomboy spew her bravado. Honestly, nothing like the tales the Professor used to tell, of honey-tongued lasses who'd charm you by word and by the subtle allure of a woman, whatever that meant.

When the music started playing, and the curious cleric approached what Aloys guessed was his chief, the wizard turned to whoever sat beside him. "Always this... lively?" he asked, unsure whether 'lively' was the word he wanted to use.

[North_Ranger]

GM Post

"Jhod Kavken, pleased to meet you", the mustachioed cleric introduced himself to Walker, taking his hand. The bald man's grip was friendly but surprisingly tight - as befit a servant of Old Deadeye. No hermits and monastery dwellers were the Erastili clergy; they learned professions and lived off the land like their congregations. No doubt Jhod himself was at least a decent shot with his bow.

Vasili Kozhek

Sitting next to the introvert arcanist, Vasili looked up from his stew and bread, and wiped his mouth clean with his sleeve. "Not your usual sort of festivities, huh?" the wispy-bearded young man asked with a grin. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. When life's hard and joys are few, people don't miss a chance to have a bit of fun when the opportunity presents itself."

Giving the wizard a slap on the back, Vasili continued. "Come on, friend. Loosen up a little. Once we get back in the wilderness, you'll remember fondly every spoonful of stew, every sip of ale... and other joys", the young man added with a little smirk and nodded towards two of the settler girls, young beauties probably about eighteen or nineteen, whispering to each other and giggling when they looked at the charter men - particularly the ever-dashing Deran and joyful Thom.

[Servbot]

Aloys

The wizard shook his head. "What other joys?" he asked, not comprehending. "Don't get it. Magic abound; Joy everywhere." He nodded resolutely, tightly gripping the staff he was even now keeping close to him.

There was everywhere he could practice magic, Aloys felt. He'd heard of places where it could not be done, but honestly, the Professor had told a lot of tall tales that Aloys could not quite believe. If all the Professor said was true, the world would be a tumultuous place indeed, and it made no sense it continued to exist the way it did.

Like the concept of usurping a king. Made no sense. If the king was the rightful ruler decided by accident of birth, and he symbolised the stability of the kingdom, what sense would it make to kill the man and take his throne? It would disrupt order, and did not all like order?

Well, Aloys snorted, given how rowdy it was here, perhaps people disliked order outside the Professor's cottage.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Well it is a magic of a sort I'm talking about", Vasili continued, nudging Aloys in the side with his elbow. "The kind where you, ah, let a lovely young lady handle your wand, if you know what I mean", he added with a wink.

[Servbot]

Aloys

At this, Aloys glared at Vasili, holding his staff closer to his body. Madness! To let anyone else touch your conduit of magic!

"W, wands are personal use," he retorted, unaware of the deeper meaning of Vasili's words. Or the implications of his own.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili

The young frontiersman did his best not to snort with laughter at the wizard's words. "Well, if you prefer to blow a charge or two out of your wand on your own, that's your business", he just answered, chuckling and shaking his head.

Still, he made sure Aloys's cup was properly filled with ale. Maybe these scholarly types only needed some liquid courage...

[shugyosha]

Walters

He watched Tessa wrestle. There was no upside to her challenge, so he kept quiet.

When the cleric came he read the letter, then passed it on. "So what is the plan for tomorrow?"

[North_Ranger]

Walters

He watched Tessa wrestle. There was no upside to her challenge, so he kept quiet.

When the cleric came he read the letter, then passed it on. "So what is the plan for tomorrow?"

Vasili Kozhek

"Head back out, I suppose", Vasili answered, turning away from the wizard he had been teasing. "Personally I think we should finish scouting the stretch of land between here and the bandit camp. After that... we'll see what comes up."

[Angstrom]

Accepting the Erastili's handshake, Walker feels a tad embarrassed by his presumption. His father had taught him better manners than that.

"Father Kavken. It is good to meet you sir." Walker signs the symbol of the bow and arrow with this hands as a symbol of respect.

"If we're ready to get back out there, then there's really nothing else to do."
Your destiny will not wait, Saint Walker.

[shugyosha]

Walters

He nods, "Okay, I'm going to get things ready then. Are we taking horses, a cart or wagon?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran reads the letter standing up, his face serious for a change. When he is done, he addresses his companions.

"It seems that the our patrons are worried. They want information on the Stag Lord. They also need us to take care of increased cobold activity in the area, either peacefully or not.

As you all now, apart from terribly good looking and humble, I am also a bit on the loyal side. So, if you have no objection, I propose that we, first, write back with what we know, second, we add the kobolds to our excursions goals and third, we make Stag Lord our priority after that.

How does that sound everybody? Please, I have not made a terrible joke in almost five minutes and already I feel the pressure."

Deran smiles, proud that he was able to do just that in the last moment. He waits for his companions reactions before he writes the answering missive.

So: Temple, scouting, the potion guy and any quest of those advertised that comes our way, correct? Then, the kobolds (if they are not that way), other quests and then the Stag Lord and the teleporting madman. Right?
If not, just give me an order and I all for it!

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Sounds good to me. Especially the part about the temple", Vasili nodded. Despite his youthful appearance, he was still a devout Erastili. Gennadi had taught his adoptive son well in that respect. "I'll go with Walters to get everything ready. And even if it slows us down, I think we should take the wagon. We're hauling a decent amount of food and water into the wilds - much of which we'll need, since we can no longer rely on Dhovanu and Quray to do the hunting. I can try a little, but I'm still only one man."

"Set off at first light tomorrow, then?"

Agreed.

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Thom gave a small sigh that nobody heard, scratching his head and raising his eyebrows in faint amusement. It certainly looked like he would have his hands full helping out these charter men. At first it'd looked like a good chance to earn some coin while repaying Oleg for his hospitality. Right now, with kobolds and bandits and looking for a Stag Lord and... turnips? The outpost was having a right good spell, it was. Oh well.

He should probably make extra effort to show up on time tomorrow morning. It wouldn't do to start off with these new comrades on the wrong foot by sleeping in.

"At first light it shall be then." He nods genially to Vasili and Deran. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go see if Svetlana would like some help clearing and washing up after dinner."

[Angstrom]

Walker nods agreement at Vasili's words. "Since the swordlords want us to spend enough time out there to make a map it would be wise to set up some caches in the Narlmarches. Contingencies or whatever you call them. Making one near the stream we saw at Kressle's camp would be a good way to ensure everyone knows where to go if someone gets separated from the group. Big group like ours and a wild forest like that. Bound to happen eventually."

I'm just thinking that getting the wagon through the heart of the forest will be next to impossible. Setting it up in some hidden place and obscuring the tracks would allow us to make faster progress on day trips. It would also give our party a spot to take rest days to heal ability damage or craft new cartridges.

[Servbot]

Aloys

The wizard shrugs a little non-committally. "I'll follow," he simply says. The number of quests these people undertook seemed a fair match for their number. Aloys sighed; It seems like he's taken on much more than he's bargained for. He'd rather just sleep it all off until someone's ready to venture out to those rumoured ruins!

Ah, but life was never easy, eh?

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"Well then. It is settled. I will just go now and write to our patrons abot how nice the countryside is this time of the year."

And so he did. Deran, after thanking his hosts once more and making sure that his prisoners are well treated and put back into their cells, goes to the new cleric.

"So, Thom. Have you made up your mind? Will you be joining us tomorow? We have a lot to do and we could use your help. And I think that you could use ours. Drinking alone is not much fun"

Dearn smiles and looks at the man earnestly. After he gives his answer, Deran retires to his room to write the letter. In a precise and formal tone - no joking with official reports, he has learned that the hard way- he recounts all that they know of the Stag Lord, as well as their recent battles with his second in command. He makes a special note of losses and prisoners. He then goes on to say that the kobolds will be dealt with in the next days, as well as a few of the other troublesome areas. He does not mention the temple. This was of no interest to the Swordlords.

Sealing the letter with wax and with his ring, he delivers it to Kesten, to be sent back in the first available dispatch back. Making sure his equipment is well and trully ready, he goes to sleep, after praying for some time. Long days ahead.

In case it has not been made clear, Detan has ordered a suit of armor.

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

"I believe I will be, Master Deran of the Jokes Most Terrible. I confess that I wandered through Brevoy with only the vague idea that I ought to get some sightseeing done. And it seems to me that ought to be plenty to see in the Stolen Lands." Thom grins sheepishly and hooks his thumbs into his belt.

"Also, you are right about the drinking. If I should have the cause to ever conduct a service, when the time is right, I might expect you to be right there in the thick of it with the best of them with ale up to your eyelashes. That sound all right?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran laughs heartily with his bestowed title.

"I think I will remember this one! If I find someone to translate it in the Heavenly Language or even Old Draconic, even better.

And if you conduct a service, I will be there. I may be not as ...engorged in the fine details of the Holy Sacrament - my Bosses are a bit strict on that one- but I will be there."

[North_Ranger]

Wealday, 8th of Pharast

After the festivities, the rest of the day went relatively quietly as people dispersed back to their duties. Kesten's men and the settlers got back to rebuilding the palisade. Father Jhod retired to the settlers' camp to see Tatyana. Oleg, Svetlana and Sam - apparently now adopted as a jack-of-all-trades by Svetlana - started clearing the yard and helping with the last preparations for the charter men to leave. All in all, the rest of the day went busily as last-minute preparations were made, maps were drawn and directions written down or otherwise memorized. For those with letters to send, Oleg had promised to send such missives out the next day along with his own business correspondence - not to mention the special orders from Restov.

Come dawn, all was set for the charter group to set out again. Gendry sat on the driver's seat of the wagon, half-dozing in the brisk spring morning, donkeys braying and horses whinnying as they slapped away early morning flies and gnats with their tails. There were a few people to see them off; Oleg with a hearty salute, Svetlana with a bundle of freshly-baked meat pies to be shared on the road, Jax and the still-shackled Tessa carrying bundles of firewood. The redheaded ex-bandit gave a small chuckle at Vasili as the frontiersman carried a cask of gunpowder into the wagon - a chuckle that made the slightly limping young man blush a little. Probably the most curious well-wisher was Sam, sweeping the courtyard with his hair open and wearing a worn shawl on his shoulders. He looked at Deran and Thom, but bit his tongue and went back to work.

As the small retinue made their way outside of Oleg's gates and towards the south where Jhod had told the herbalist Bocken resided, a final send-off came from the sky: Quray, crying as he swooped over the party and then climbed up into the morning sky, wings fluttering in the brisk morning air before he turned and flew back towards Oleg's Post.

[shugyosha]

Walters

The large man finishes loading the wagon. He approaches Tessa, "You be safe, don't give them an excuse to take that head of yours Red."

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Thom is on time for once and he patiently waits for the rest of the charter group to set off, idly swinging his giant oar in one hand, letting the weight of it fuel the movement.

The gaze of the young man who'd helped Svetlana out at the feast last night is not lost on him, but Thom refrains from acknowledging the attention. Such feelings were fleeting, as he well knew. In any case, it would do no good to start out in a new place by getting cozy with the regulars that way.

[North_Ranger]

Walters

The large man finishes loading the wagon. He approaches Tessa, "You be safe, don't give them an excuse to take that head of yours Red."

"No worries about that", Tessa chuckled as she tossed the bundle of firewood haphazardly on the ground. "I know how to handle suitors - unwanted or otherwise", she continued with a wink before getting back to work. "You take care of yourselves, too."

[shugyosha]

Walters

He silently smiles and returns to the others. "Let's go."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran is atop his horse, near the cart. He is a splendid figure, his arnor shining, his har combed, his weapons gleaming. He strikes comical poses for the children who see him, making the horse prance. He laughs with them when they laugh.

Yes, little ones. Laugh. Do not go near weapons. Do not take up arms. Stay with your plows.

He turns to Vasili, who is still limbing a bit.

"Have you noticed, oh Master of Thunderous Accuracy, that everytime we leave this outpost, we are with different company? I wonder, are my jokes that bad? If not, I can make them.

Let' s see what this outing will do. I have some new axe techniques I want to try. Unless Walters there once again rubs my pride to the ground"

He smiles at the large man.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili barked a small laughter as he climbed on Ember's saddle, trying his best not to put weight on his right foot. Gods, that redhead kicks like a pissed-off mule, he thought to himself. Apparently flowers weren't the way to go with her.

"Please don't, Deran. Otherwise people will be killing themselves by the time we reach the Narlmarches", he added with a wry smile as he adjusted the strap of the quiver on his back. Despite his chosen weapon and the full powder horn and ammo pouches, he had still opted to keep one of the bandit's bows. His ammo was costly, and they would still need to hunt for food while exploring. Otherwise they'd be forced to return to Oleg's far too soon to resupply.

[shugyosha]

Walters

From the back of the cart Walters answers Deran with a laugh and a grin, "My, my, you look all fancy up there with your shiny armor. Maybe if you toughened your pride it wouldn't so easily be soiled."

[Angstrom]

Walker tosses his sack of belongings into the back of the cart and climbs atop the horse that had belonged to a dead bandit. He is surprised to see the horse lower its neck as Nu approaches to give the fox a way of leaping up and sit on Walker's shoulders.

At the others' boasts Walker felt uneasy. Was losing companions to be expected now? Doing a quick assay of combat readiness, it looked like either he or Gendry would be most likely to go. He just hoped that fancy axework the paladin spoke of would be limited to splitting firewood.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran assumes a rather imperial demeanor as he answers Walters, his eyes winking mischievously.

"I will have you now, good sir, that I have been toughening up my pride considerable. I have it taking laps and doing push ups in full armor for a week now. By out first engagement, it will be tougher that Taldanian mail.

Now, have I ever told you the joke with the minotaur, the goblin and the paladin?"

Whatever the answer, Deran will proceed to recount it. Amazingly, it turns out to be rather good.

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Thom grins heartily at Deran's joke, his hair tousled by morning wind. "With you around, Master, I believe our journey might be lighter than expected after all. Tell me though - these kobolds that we are seeking. Are we looking to rout them out of their home or would it be possible to negotiate with them at all? There are many other sentient creatures on this earth, and if they can be talked around rather than exterminated, surely that would be worth a try?"

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"I would much prefer reasoning with them. We are here to stay, and exterminating a whole tribe of kobolds would be difficult, not to mention ...unstylish. It would be better to have them as neighbors than enemies.

But either way, the attacks will stop. I think they will have to be firmly persuaded of the point"

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Then we better hope we run into some kobolds who are not planning an ambush", Vasili remarked as he rode by the wagon. "I mean, it will probably be very difficult to get the kobolds to listen if we have to start by killing them", he added with a wry smile.

[Servbot]

Aloys

At that, the magician frowns somewhat.

"Kobolds... They speak Common?" he queries. A language barrier would be very troubling for negotiations. The Professor would always remark that negotiating in your own language always begged a homeground advantage, and so it should always be that the party most in need of leverage (Aloys surmised it was they) should always use the tongue of the other party.

But could any of them speak Kobold...ese?

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"I am not sure. But among us, we will find a way to communicate, I think."

[Angstrom]

"I sure hope so"
They will speak to you Saint Walker

[North_Ranger]

"Well, I guess you could say they speak Common", Vasili answered Aloys's question with a shrug. "At least small phrases, like 'Me no like you' or 'You no take candle'. Never met a kobold that was more... speachy than that. They are lizards, though... do you think they might speak, I dunno, lizardese or dragon tongue or boggard or something?"

[shugyosha]

Walters

"Well I speak a little Draconic," he says off handedly.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"You do?" Vasili asked with a surprised look when he turned his eyes to the sellsword. "Pardon my surprise, Walters... I just always thought that only white-bearded old scholars and such spoke it."

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran also looks surprised at Walters

"As our comrade in arms said: You do? I will have to wonder now what other surprises do you have for us. Do you also dabble in Alchemy? Know the language of the birds? Are you able to build fortresses? Do tell!"

[Miraqariftsky]

The explorers make their way eastward over scrubland and hill-country, a white sun shining through fluffy banks of clouds. A fair wind blows from the south, bringing them a coolness despite the growing heat of passing morning.

Small outcroppings of black-and-white striated granite dot the landscape. If the explorers were to scale one of these minor hillocks, they might see what seems to be a sea--- waves flowing, crests shining in the sunlight, troughs shrouded in shadow--- all frozen in stone.

The whispering tall grasses and spreading trees of the plains give way to scrub-brush, to dwarf shrubberies that spread across the slopes and gnarled, thorny tree-bushes that cling to crevasses. Below, beyond the shadows of the thousand glens, a thousand little brooks babble and streams gleam.

In the distance a grazing herd of over two-score head of yellow-tailed brown-shagged wild goats pauses their perpetual gnawing to glance in curiousity at the passing explorers.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili had seemed more relaxed and in a better mood ever since he could feel the wind in his hair again. Ever the outdoorsman, he had spoken little as the party travelled across the wild landscape. Every now and then he scratched some notes in his journal, guiding his steed Ember with his knees, but most of the time he kept his eyes to the horizon.

Only when the party noticed the herd of wild goats did Vasili speak up, a small smile rising to his lips. Pulling his bow's string in place, he turned to look at Deran. "Wait for me for a while, okay? I think I'll go and invite one of the goats over for dinner", he chuckled before urging Ember on and riding down the hillside, making sure to stay upwind from the grazing herd.

The hunt proved more challenging than Vasili had expected, though. It had been some time since he had used a bow, and the arrows he managed to release before the herd started running only clipped their targets. Still, he remembered what Gennadi had taught him: to respect his prey, and not let them suffer in vain. It took him some time to track down the two wounded goats, but in the end he found them both. One more arrow each, and Vasili then rushed to the dying animals' side.

"Thank you for your sacrifice, brother", Vasili whispered to each goat before slitting their throats with a clean, neat cut. Once the goats had bled out and stopped twitching, he bound their feet together and dragged them back to where Ember was waiting. As a small offering of gratitude to Erastil, Vasili had taken the time to carve out one of the goat's heart and left it behind on top of a nearby boulder, using the goat's blood to paint a crude approximation of Old Deadeye's holy symbol on the sun-warmed stone.

It was with these two goats lying across Ember's broad back that the young hunter returned, his cheeks flushed with the thrill of the hunt, and a new, eager glow in his eyes. "I hope you folks didn't have to wait too long", he chuckled as he patted the goats lying in front of him. "Do you want these now? I can dress these for spit-roasting in a moment... or we can take them to Bokken's. He might be more willing to listen to a bunch of armed strangers if we come bearing gifts."

[shugyosha]

Walters


Deran

Deran also looks surprised at Walters

"As our comrade in arms said: You do? I will have to wonder now what other surprises do you have for us. Do you also dabble in Alchemy? Know the language of the birds? Are you able to build fortresses? Do tell!"

"My father was an educated man. He wanted a son to follow in his foot steps. Instead he got me."



It was with these two goats lying across Ember's broad back that the young hunter returned, his cheeks flushed with the thrill of the hunt, and a new, eager glow in his eyes. "I hope you folks didn't have to wait too long", he chuckled as he patted the goats lying in front of him. "Do you want these now? I can dress these for spit-roasting in a moment... or we can take them to Bokken's. He might be more willing to listen to a bunch of armed strangers if we come bearing gifts."

"Best to bring something as we are uninvited,"
he says.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

"By Sarenrae's freezing toothpick, I am surrounded by men of skills! I must learn an instrument or one of the elemental languages at first chance."

Deran helps Vasili with the goats.

"A gift you say? Well, I am not sure a goat would be appropriate. What are we going to do, present it in a bouquet of flowers and say "Look, what we goat you!" Ha, that was unfunny even by my own standards!"

[Servbot]

Aloys

The wizard looks up at Deran's off-handed comment, staring a bit expressionlessly.

"... It's difficult to learn," he finally says, and with a tilt of his head adds, "Is food not always appropriate?"

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili moaned and rolled his eyes. "Yes. Yes, Deran. That was bad. Very, very bad. That joke stunk. Like an otyugh. Covered in boiled cabbage. On a hot summer day", he chuckled as he hoisted down the other goat and gave it to Deran. After that he started grooming Ember, making sure his trusty steed was well taken care of before he joined the others for dinner.

"You can never be sure with these hermit types", he continued in response to Aloys's question. "Some of them are rather touchy, or taking vows that prohibit them doing this or that. Hopefully Bokken's not the type who thinks animals talk to him or who's promised not to eat meat."

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Thom watches his companions carefully and with some amusement, rubbing the stubble on his chin. Yes, it would probably have been useful to check with Oleg what kind of person this Bokken was before setting out. Too late for that though.

"Yes, master Deran. I suppose we could get this man a goat in the hope that we won't get his goat. Though as far as goats go, we're all going to look like fine ones if we get up being chased off his land or worse. I don't suppose we know anything else about him that would be helpful?"

[Servbot]

Aloys

With a frown, Aloys responds, "... With magic, speaking to animals is simple." Not that he actually knows the spell, mind. Aloys hasn't very much interest in speaking with animals─why would he, if he already didn't feel too drawn to speaking much with other humans?

Don't get him wrong; It wasn't that Aloys disliked people. They were just too complicated! With a grimace, the wizard remembers the time he'd attempted to barter for some food, only to learn that it was free, for he was a hungry traveller. But the next group of people in a comparable situation had him work for it! And, subsequently, they had chased him off when they deemed the quality of his work unfit. Something about not using magic missiles to herd the cattle together; Clearly the superior way to go about it, though.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

"Sure, with magic, I guess", Vasili shrugged as he hoisted the two goats to hang from a nearby tree branch. "Only, most of the hermits I've ran into have been about as magical as my left foot and about as nutty as a barrel of squirrels. There was this one guy... a follower of Hanspur the River Rat, I think... He insisted being married to a perch living in the nearby stream. Unfortunately for me, I ended up running into him when he was... ahem... consummating the marriage", the young man continued, shivering with the memory.

"That poor, poor fish..."

Ready to move on into the evening and the mud hut, BTW :smallwink:

[Miraqariftsky]

Sarenrae reaches her zenith for the day as the explorers skirt along the southern edge of the stone sea, stopping for a meal in the shadow of a standing stone and a spreading tree.

Nearing Just as the sun sets and twilight's rose flames kiss the land, they eventually arrive at a grove of pines whistling with every breeze. Needles crunch beneath their boots and their horses' hooves.

An hour's walk from the grove's eaves, with starlight streaming in through the canopy, the explorers begin to smell woodsmoke and the fragrance of herbs, unguents and a nearby recently covered latrine. The trees thin out, then reveal a clearing, at the center of which is a large thatch-and-mud hut.

The inbound explorers smell the scents of wet fur and beast-filth as they come around and find two horse-high wolves, staring down a sextet of chittering weasels, each one as tall as a man if they stood on their hind legs. Both sets of beasts seem to have riding harnesses and tribal talismans and feathery fetishes swinging from their bodies. Both sets of beasts have their eyes flashing with fury, their teeth bared and their claws slashing gouges into the turf.

Within the hut, around a dozen different high-pitched voices are raised in clamour and brewing conflict.

A reedy old man's voice screams hoarsely from inside, "Aaaaahhh! No! WAR! Inside! MY! House! Miiiiiiiiine! You not buy? Geddouttahere! BOTH OF YAH!"

The chorus of other voices retort in chaos, in seeming anarchy...

...and then the hut falls silent, and even the beasts turn to look at the explorers when they cross into the grassy clearing. Several sets of glowing eyes peer through the darkness of the hut out at them.

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Well isn't this just peachy, Vasili cursed inside his head as he stared at the gathered eyes staring at them - not to mention the huge wolves and the oversized rodents. Slowly the young man slid down from his saddle, keeping his eyes locked at the creatures staring at them. If they wanted to kill us, they'd have attacked right away...

"Deran?" Vasili asked as he reached to pull off the goats from Ember's back. "Orders?"

Sense Motive to see what kind of a beehive we've stumbled into [roll0]

[ProudGrognard]

Deran


"Hey, don't look at me, my charm works only on species which have two legs!"

Deran looks carefully and readies hia battle axe in a non threatening way.

"On the other hand, it does seem that engagement is frowned upon here. I say we continue as planned"

Deran approaches the house and calms his anxious horse. He goes for the door, careful to gauge any hostile reactions.

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

Huh. Antagonistic animal factions, raised voices, a single human shouting for order... it might be a moot or parley of some sort. Anything was possible when you were dealing with hermits.

"Asking your pardon, master hunters. I hope we're not interrupting anything and if we are, I must ask your most gracious pardon. We need to speak to the human named Bokken." Thom volunteers in as soothing as voice as he can manage under the circumstances. "Mister Bokken? Are you in there?"

Diplomacy checks? [roll0], [roll1]

[Servbot]

Aloys

An approach laden with antagonism. The people surely enjoyed it! Aloys readied his staff, and considered casting his mage armour... Perhaps that'd be too premature.

Still, he peers out for any signs of magic...

Cast Detect Magic to check magical auras from the cabin's direction. Don't end the spell if he detects anything, end it otherwise.

[shugyosha]

Walters

Large man got off the wagon with his large blade in hand he kept to the back as not to be too intimidating but close enough if there was trouble.

[ProudGrognard]

Deran

Deran adds his charm to the gracious greeting.

"As my companion says, if the master of this house would be kind enough to come out and greet us, we would be most obliged"

Diplomacy [roll0]

[Angstrom]

Picking up a cudgel from inside the cart, Walker stands behind Walters hoping that the bigger man's confidence will rub off on him. The memory of talking wolves with teeth to spare is still fresh in his mind.
Our prayers are with you Saint Walker. With you and your companions.

Ready Bless to cast in response to aggression.

[Miraqariftsky]

The pack of overlarge weasels chitter incessantly, seeming to swirl around each other, over tree roots and through banks of bushes and shrubberies. Still, despite their anarchy, they still present a united front against the pair of dire wolves and the pack of approaching adenturers.

Opposite them, the two horse-high wolves glare and growl, hackles raised, pawing at the ground. The smaller of the two--- with several fresh white scars across its thick black coat, nudges its larger silver-and-shale-furred packmate.

It could be some trick of the wind but the explorers could swear that the wolf had just growled, "SrrrrnnnGRRRttthhh'emmmmrrr"

Presently, a brown-robed old man strides to the hut's threshold, takes a deep breath, and then with several mighty strokes of his broom sweeps out several smallfolk and sends them tumbling down his stairs and across the grassy sward. He yells again, "Ye can't respecks MAH peace in MAH hut, y'all stay thah FRAK out!"

Squinting at the approaching adventurers, the old man's countenance changes to one of delight and hospitality. He spits into his hand and slicks back his grey hair and shoves on a dinged leather hat with a long black and white feather stuck through its band. "Gennelmen. 'Tis I, 'tis I. Wot may ol' Bokken do y'all for?"

Just then, two of the tumbling smallfolk slam up against Deran's greaves, sprawling. One is a goblin, clad in leather and furs, its crimson eyes still blinking, its bulbous head covered with a wide cap made from the hardened skin of a giant mushroom. The other is, if the tales are true, a kobold, its body covered in scales yellow and brown and green, its eyes a slitted glittering black-on-yellow. Strings and beads and feathers adorn the small, scaled sophont's small body.

The very moment that they regain consciousness, they spring back to their feet, the kobold baring dragon-like fangs and claws while the goblin rips loose and twirls a pair of jagged stone shortswords. Their compatriots prepare to leap upon each other as well...

...only to give a collective sigh and clamour. Among all the high-pitched babel, the adventurers could decipher several flavours of, "Longshank do trade wit juss longshank now, issat it?"

"I! Don't! Gyaaah!" groans Bokken in exasperation, and stamps his sandals and pounds his walking stick as he retorts at his little kneebiting visitors, "I! Am! Bokken! Y'wants summthings, I gots it, wotever's! Just! Don't! Bring! Yer war to me hall, me door, me grove!"

Saint Walker, is peace a blessing worth working? Come.

@Servbot: Aloys detects magick worth of mild to light to low-moderate in the hut as well as on Bokken and in the riding beasts, in varying degrees. Types of magick are all over the spectrum,

[Servbot]

Aloys

Spotting the traces of magic, Aloys attempts to identify them to the best of his ability.

Keep up Detect magic. Spellcraft for good measure.
[roll0]

[North_Ranger]

Vasili Kozhek

Vasili coughed a little, looking at the almost humorous presentation before him. It was like watching a goblin comedy in one of the River Kingdom cities. All that was missing was a gaudily-dressed bard as a narrator and jokes about lampshades as hats.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen... May I humbly suggest we all calm down? There's no need for fighting here. Perhaps the kobolds and the goblins could step aside for a bit while we talk with Master Bokken?" he suggested, sliding down the goats from his shoulder. "Here, have one of these for roasting. Sit down. Talk. Eat. Everyone is in a fighting mood with an empty stomach, no?"

Diplomacy! [roll0]

[maggie_mcknife]

Thom

"Master Bokken has the right of it. His territory is neutral ground, and to carry our divisions into it will do none of us any good. Let us respect his dominion here, mm?" Thom adds quietly, once Vasili is done speaking.

"You might want to do the dividing yourself. Lest they start scrapping over who gets the bigger loin," he whispers as quietly as the goat lands with a meaty thump on the ground.

Diplomacy/ Aid Another: [roll0]

[shugyosha]

Walters

The big man almost laughs at the buffoonish antics of the kobold and goblin. He moves forward with his weapon in hand but in an obviously non-treating manner. He watches the two carefully as the others talk.

[Angstrom]

Walker
Saint Walker, is peace a blessing worth working? Come.
I don't know; is it even possible?

Trusting the bigger man's sense of danger more than his own, Walker steps forwards alongside his companions.

"Master Bokken. We were wondering... I mean, we hoped... what I mean to ask is: can we make camp in your grove tonight? We would be happy to trade with you."

Walker looks to Deran, hoping the knight will smooth things over. It doesn't seem like moving on for the night is much of an option, but the thought of getting his throat slit in the night by a goblin makes Walker hesitate to ask.

No longer ready bless. Use Fortune Hex on Deran to allow reroll of his next skill check.