Reaping the Kingdom [IC]

[fyleisch]

Norden Point
Half a day's walk south of the Fieldy border

Norden Point is the last Riellian outpost on the road that leads North into the kingdom of Fieldy. It's a small town, the population at any given time made up mostly of traders, scouts and messengers, as well as a few permanent residents who run services for them.

It's a good place to look for work, though not all of it's honest. Its remoteness from the grand city-states of the South make it a popular destination for those disillusioned with Southern civilization, as well as criminals, fleeing the bounty hunters of the Southern lords.


"Well that's the long and short of it. The mercenaries we hired walked out at the last minute, and now we've got a caravan sitting in the warehouse, and no caravan guards! RURRGH!"

The half-orc trader smashes his fists down on the table, clearly giving in to his more aggressive side. The wood creaks under the blow, and old cracks in the table hint that this isn't the first time he's taken his aggression out on the furniture.

The small office is cramped, with papers strewn about on shelves and in stacks on the floor. Coins and maps are scattered across the table, and a ledger lies open in front of the fuming tademaster. He takes a moment to calm down before continuing.

"That's why you're here isn't it? It would make my day, I tell you! I normally have to hire an entire team to escort shipments into Fieldy, but an ex-gladiator should be able to manage it alone. What do you say?"

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius stands quiet a moment. The only sound he gives off is his breathing echoing through his helmet.

Finally he uncrosses his arms. "What's the pay?"

[fyleisch]

"Normally, any member of the guard team who makes it all the way to Fieldepth gets 250 gold pieces each. Since those useless brutes broke their contract," the man begins breathing deeply, trying to control his temper, "and since you'll be guarding the caravan alone, I can pay you 300 gold on successful delivery, plus 50 gold up front as travelling expenses."

[Chilimaggot]

"That will do." He punches his fist. "Let's get to it."

[fyleisch]

"Heh heh." The half-orc seems pleased, as if he's just saved a great deal of money. "All right, here's the itinerary - you leave here at dawn, I suppose you'll have to find a place to stay for the night."

"It's five days walk to Fieldepth - the Fieldy capital. The caravan usually spends the first night at Fort Fiel, and camps for the second night on the road, just before they enter the swamp."

"Oh, that reminds me. Take this map." He hands Excrucius a sheet of paper covered by a crudely drawn map (http://i.imgur.com/3iUMo2B.png). "My son drew it. He wants to be a cartographer when he grows up, he's very special." The half-orc smiles, revealing his tusks.

"The third night is spent camping on the road within the swamp itself. That's the worst one, I hear. When you reach Fieldepth, the caravan master will give you your payment and release you from service. I suppose after that you do what you want!" He grins again.

"Meet the caravan on the North edge of town at dawn."

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius stares at the childish scrawling before making a show of carefully folding it. He stows it away and clears his throat. "There was talk of up-front pay?"

[fyleisch]

The smile goes out of the half-orc's eyes, though his face remains frozen. He makes a show of lifting his hand to his forehead as if surprised. "Ah yes, I completely forgot."

He pulls a strongbox from a drawer beneath the table and painstakingly counts out five platinum pieces.

Excrucius receives fifty gold pieces.

[Chilimaggot]

"Very good. I will see you at dawn." Excrucius turns and strides from the establishment. Once outside, he looks about for an inn.

[fyleisch]

Looking around, Excrucius sees two options for travellers looking to spend the night. One of them is a brightly painted two-storey inn, with a carved sign hanging in front of the door declaring its name to be 'The Merino'. A warm glow lights up the windows of the inn, and the faint sound of jaunty music leaks out whenever the door opens.

The other is a long, squat, dry-stone building, with the word "Lodgings" painted on the door. The building is probably a simple flop-house or traveler's barracks, for caravan guards, sheep herders, and other travelers looking for a safe place to sleep on a budget.

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius cannot deny the sway the music holds over him. It snakes tendrils out to some hidden reaches of his soul, inviting him to join in a glib celebration of happiness and joy.

It's nauseating.

Being influenced by such nonsense is infuriating. Gripping his fists tightly as his rage builds, he stifles the urge to launch himself at the nearest passerby and separate their worthless heads from their weak, useless neck for being party to this. He heads inside the simpler building marked "Lodging".

Once inside, he will head to whatever passes as the front desk. He will ask what the fee is for a night and toss whatever change they ask for across the desk before heading straight to his given accommodations.

[fyleisch]

The flop-house is made up of one large room, filled with bunk beds. The ratty half-elf sitting behind a desk at one end of the building asks for 5 silver pieces for a single day's bed and board, and scowls as Excrucius throws down the coins. The bed is clean, but uncomfortable, and Excrucius has trouble sleeping - the lilting music that drifts in through the building's thin walls filling his mind with images of lambs, and tiny baby gnomes.

Come morning, the sour half-elf pushes a bowl of cold salt porridge into Excrucius' hands, and soon afterwards the fighter heads out into the morning.

Excrucius finds the caravan waiting on the road at the North edge of town -it's the only caravan there- with two people standing around it. One is a halfling dressed in an odd gray and black motley, carrying a scroll case over one shoulder and a bulging backpack over the other.

The other figure is a dwarf, clad in leather armor and with a dagger at his belt. He sidles over to Excrucius as he approaches.

"You the guard? Hoped you'd be bigger." He hawks and spits into the ditch at the side of the road.

"Well, we best be off then. Gotta make Fort Fiel by night, else 'em knifeys'll get us!"

Excrucius loses 5 silver pieces, but with the large breakfast offered by the proprietor, he can forgo rations for the day if he tightens his belt.

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius shows no outward reaction to the comment on size. To the comment about 'knifeys', "We should be so fortunate."

He looks around at the caravan and the two people nearby. "I'm ready."

[fyleisch]

"Limal always sends me the maniacs," the middle aged dwarf mutters to himself, before climbing onto the front of the cart and slapping the reigns of the horse harnessed to the wagon. "Gid'yup!"

The halfling in motley hops up onto the back of the cart, and fills a wooden cup from the tap of a water barrel at its rear. The cart jerks forward, and the journey is underway.

Downing the water, the halfling looks around at the others.

"Anyone mind if I play as we ride?" he asks, starting to pull a drum from his backpack.

[Chilimaggot]

Drums are more tolerable, he thinks, remembering the pounding of the arena. "I give my tentative consent, subject to..." He grips his scythe. "Rescission. "

[fyleisch]

The morning passes easily. The early winter air is cool, but a warm breeze blows from the North occasionally, preventing it from becoming too bitter. The fog over the lowlands to either side of the road lifts, and the halfling passes the time intermittently banging out a stirring tattoo on the drum to the beat of the horse's steps.

As the sun reaches its highest point, the caravan master pulls on the reins, bringing the cart to a stop.

"Hee'uup. We're breaking for lunch."

The dwarf pulls a bar of something from his belt pouch and starts munching on it, while the halfling merely hops down from the cart and walks back and forth to stretch his legs, scanning the horizon as he goes.

"Have you done this route before?" the halfling asks Excrucius, pausing to glance at the gnome. "Any idea what kind of trouble there is out here?"

If Excrucius looks out at the swamp, please have him make a Spot check.

Also - is he walking along side the cart, or riding on it?

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius looks at the halfling. "'Knifeys', apparently."

He'll check out the swamp. [roll0]

He's alternating riding and walking. Sits just long enough to get off his feet, and starts walking again. It won't do to get stiff.

[fyleisch]

As Excrucius casts his eyes over the swamp, he thinks he sees a figure in the far distance, crouching behind a copse of bushes. The creature, whatever it is, is 140 feet away over rough, boggy ground. He's clearly observing the caravan, but he doesn't yet seem to be making any hostile moves, counting on his cover to keep him hidden.

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius will walk to the edge of the clearing/road where they've stopped and wave at the figure. He draws his scythe and casts Dancing Lights, sending the floating orbs of light directly at the observer. It will be about 20 feet short of actually reaching the figure, but after reaching that point the lights will zoom back to him, and back, and forth etc., lighting a path between the figure and Excrucius.

"Advance if you dare! Your death will be neither swift nor painless, but better that than suffer the shame of Wasting. My. Air." he takes on a tone of disgust with the last two words.

[fyleisch]

The distant figure scrambles completely behind the bushes and out of sight. The dwarf and halfling are both looking at Excrucius as if they think he's insane.

"Riight." The dwarf mutters. "Gidd'yup!"

The caravan resumes, and several more hours pass before the sun starts to dip in the sky. The mist that covered the surrounding lowlands that morning begins to reform, and it's nearly full night when Excrucius starts to see the glow of distant torches through the fog. The caravan has arrived at it's first hold-over; Fort Fieldy.

The settlement is almost just that; a small, solitary fort, perched by the side of the road. The fort looks like it's had better days; the stones are chipped, and the shutters on the upper windows are scorched and battered. The fort doesn't even have any traditional crenelations - cover for defenders on the roof is provided by several wooden panels, each one notched and cracked around the edges, as if each has been damaged by dozens of arrows.

Off to one side is a small cluster of buildings, including a workshop that looks like it might double as a blacksmith, and a building that's obviously some kind of inn, though Excrucius has never seen one with so many darkened windows. If it's open at all, it must not have many guests at the moment.

Most bizarrely, a large dark-yellow cylinder sits in the dew-slicked grass in front of the fort. It looks like nothing so much as a giant wax-sealed wheel of cheese.

"You two can head off, wake up the innkeep," the dwarf says, nodding towards the darkened inn. "If he ain't there, well, we'll be sleeping in the barn. There's tents in the cart, but the knife-ears test this place reg'lar, we want to be behind walls tonight."

The halfling hops down from the cart, and the dwarf drives the horse Southwards, towards a building that looks like a barn.

"Well, what do you think? Shall we go bang on the doors?" the halfling asks, looking towards the darkened windows of the building they were supposed to spend the night.


http://i.imgur.com/fs6AwKz.png

[Chilimaggot]

In response, Excrucius walks forward and bangs on the doors.

[fyleisch]

It takes a good two minutes before Excrucius hears activity inside the inn. There's the sound of scrabbling, and a latch unlocking, and the door creaks open a few inches. A face appears in the gap; that of a thick-set middle aged human. His shoulder length hear is greasy, and he's wearing a leather jerkin over a grey shirt.

He takes a second to glance between Excrucius and the grey-motleyed halfling.

"We're closed! We're closed! Go away."

He's visibly sweating, and seems to be extremely nervous about something.

Before either Excrucius or the halfling can reply he moves to slam the door.

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius moves to block the door. "We're going to have to insist. We're very tired, you see. Let us in."

Intimidate [roll0]

[fyleisch]

The man pales visibly. He shoots the halfling a pleading glance, but the stony stare he gets in reply does him no good.

"Fine! Sure. Let me just... give me a few minutes to get the place... tidy." He moves to push the door closed. "Please! I'll let you through in five minutes, and I'll a fire going and some hot wine, all right?"

He seems to be sincere, but Excrucius can roll a sense motive check if he feels its appropriate - either to try and work out if the man is lying, or more generally to work out if there's something fishy going on.

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius stands quiet a moment, still blocking the door. Then he backs off.

"I fully intend to be on the other side of this door in five minutes."

[fyleisch]

The man nods and shuts the door.

A few bangs are heard from the upper floor, and a long, low, grinding sound, like steel on wood. After about three minutes, the door swings open, and the man reappears looking breathless and wearing a wide smile.

"Welcome! Welcome! Nicholas Aspine at your service. Come and take a seat, there's small chairs by the fire. Hang up your cloaks, that's it, lay down your weapons. Will we be having spiced wine? I've just put a chicken on to roast."

The man hurries around busily, stoking the fire and sweeping the ashes away from in front of it. The man seems to be all smiles now despite the disagreement at the door, though it's not clear how sincere he is.

After wiping down a small table by the fire, Nicholas disappears into the kitchen, returning seconds later with a pewter pitcher and a pair of mugs in hand. He places them on the table and returns to the kitchen.

Excrucius' halfling travelling companion heads straight for the fire and takes a seat, pouring himself a mug of wine.

"This is more like it. It's like having our own private inn."

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius reacts poorly to 'Lay down your weapons'.

"I'll be holding mine, thanks. I'm being paid to guard and guard I shall."

He will place it in its sling on his back, however. He isn't going to touch that mug.

He turns his head suspiciously. "Your hospitality is not unnoticed. But don't you want us to pay before you start breaking out the wine and roast?"

[fyleisch]

"Pay? Err..." He hesitates, thinking nervously. "Well, we'll settle up when you're done of course. You both look like fine upstanding gentlemen, after all. Are you two travelling alone, or should I expect more guests?"

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius rests on his scythe. "More coming."

He tilts his head and points behind the man. "What's that red stain on the wall?"

If the man turns and looks, Excrucius quickly casts prestidigitation on all the wine to make it smell strongly like piss so the halfling doesn't drink.

[fyleisch]

Please can I have a bluff roll?

[Chilimaggot]

Bluff [roll0]

[fyleisch]

Nicholas' eyes widen in shock, and he starts to turn towards the back wall. He keeps his eyes on Excrucius for as long as possible, perhaps fearing an attack, but spares a quick glance at the spot the gnome had pointed to. When he turns back to face the gnome his face is pinched into a frown, his brows drawn together.

"Are you jesting with me? I've never had blood on the walls, Mr. gnome."

The halfling, sitting in front of the fire with his eyes half closed, takes a long pull on his wine cup.

"Pfheh!" he splutters.
"Your wine's spoiled, innkeep!"

Nicholas turns slowly to the halfling.

"Apologies, master halfling. Let me get you a fresh bottle."

"Of this swill? I don't think so. Bring me an ale."

The innkeeper nods, collecting the halfling's cup and pitcher, returning to the kitchen.

"In truth, I've tasted worse," the halfling says, shooting Excrucius a sidelong glance, and turning around to look at the walls. "What red stain were you talking about?"

[Chilimaggot]

"Don't drink anything. I wouldn't eat much either." Excrucius whispers. "He called us upstanding gentlemen. Who would trust me? Something is afoot."

(OOC: is that considered metagaming? I latched onto a specific detail instead of relying on a sense motive roll)

[fyleisch]

I don't think it's metagaming, just roleplaying.
"I thought we could trust you. You're the rock-skipping guard!" the halfling hisses back. "The foul wine - you think he's trying to poison us?"

At that moment, the inn's front door bursts open, revealing the dwarven caravan driver standing in the entrance. Outside the door it's raining, and the man blows out a heavy breath, spraying rain drops from his top lip onto the floor.

"Gear's stowed. Beast fed."

The halfling turns in his chair to face the caravan driver and jerks a thumb at Excrucius.
"Our security has some concerns about the host."

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius straightens his back and nods. "Far too trusting, and eager to please. Far too quick to offer us wine- without having been paid. Which isn't outside the realm of of possibility when serving normal, respectable folk. But me?" He gestures to his scythe and pitch-black helmet. "He tried to tell us he was closed, at first. Something is not right."

(Continuing to whisper the whole time.)

[fyleisch]

"Old Nich'las?" the dwarf asks, ignoring Excrucius' whispering and speaking loudly.
"He's sound. I stayed here before, were more traders around then though.

Plenty o' travelers go missing the night after they leave here, them swamps is dangerous! But Nich'las is only a threat to yer coin purse! Heh heh.

Heh. Ehh. What's your name again?" The dwarf asks Excrucius. "You ever take that stew pot off?"

"He has a point, about the suspicious behaviour," the halfling offers. "There was a lot of banging around upstairs before he'd let us in. I'm not going to pass up his food, but I'll be locking my door tonight."

[Chilimaggot]

"Excrucius Burnshackle." says Excrucius. "Ignore my intuition at your peril. Those same instincts guided me through thirty years in the arena. "

"To that end," He continues. "Do you carry any trail rations in your caravan I may buy from you? I will not eat here."

"Oh, and." He adjusts his helmet. "Occasionally I remove it to bathe."

[fyleisch]

"Breakdown supplies in the cart," the dwarf says. "Food, blankets, water barrel. Cart's out in the barn. It's free to the guards... er, the guard."

The halfling gives a long, pained sigh. "Don't bother with that. There's a few ration packs in my backpack we can share." He heaves himself to his feet and shuffles over to his pack, digging inside and pulling out three wax-paper wrapped packages. He tosses one to Excrucius, takes another with him back to his seat, and leaves the third on the floor for the dwarf.

"Moon-touched, both of yer!" the dwarf mutters. "I'm having some o' what I can smell cooking."


As the dwarf shucks off his muddy boots, the innkeeper returns from the kitchen, drying his hands on a rag.

"Just three guests tonight is it? A caravan I should expect? I had a caravan in just last night, but they left first thing this morning, bless their brave hearts. It's a dangerous road, shouldn't be surprised if the swamp claims them."

He frowns when he sees the halfling munching through a ration pack.

"Not partaking in the chicken stew are we?" he mutters.

"I am!" the dwarf says, enthusiastically.

"Well, that's something. Just rooms for the rest of you then?"

[Chilimaggot]

"Aye." he says.

[fyleisch]

Nicholas the innkeeper returns to the kitchen and continues preparing dinner, a meal that only the caravan driver would enjoy. He makes awkward smalltalk with the dwarf whenever he strays back into the common room, keeping a wary eye on Excrucius. Soon, dinner is served; chicken stew, and the dwarf eats heartily. He seems to suffer no ill effects from the meal, and afterwards the innkeeper approaches the group with three iron keys in hand.

"Well, I'm glad one of you enjoyed the meal. Here's your keys. Your rooms are the three small ones, up the stairs on the right. A room is two silver per person, per night. Take it or leave it, there's nowhere else to stay in town, unless you fancy a night with the barn beasts!"

"Though I wouldn't put it past some of you," he mutters, under his breath.

He walks to the inn's front door and locks it, goes to each window, checking the shutters are latched, then walks to the foot of the stairs leading to the first floor.

"I'm turning in for the night. Don't worry if you hear trouble outside in the night, it'll just be the soldiers at the fort dealing with the knifeys. Oh, an' keep that door locked, if you don't want us to get us all killed in our sleep - they slip past the fort sometimes."

With those final words of warning, the man stomps back upstairs. From above, the sound of a door slamming shut can be heard.

The three small first-floor rooms at B4, B7 and D7 have been assigned to the caravan team.

http://i.imgur.com/gEF9nsz.png

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius wished he knew what a knifey was, but he wasn't about to look foolish by asking. He will accept his key, pay, and go to his room.

[fyleisch]

The rooms are small, cold, and cheaply furnished, but clean and serviceable. Excrucius notices that while the locks are in decent condition, the doors of the rooms themselves are thin and flimsy, and would do little to block noise, or keep out a determined intruder.

He also notices that an unpleasant smell fills the upper floor of the inn, that seems to grow stronger towards the larger rooms at the far end of the corridor.

It's late enough for Excrucius to sleep now, if he wants.

[Chilimaggot]

Is the proprietor still prancing about, or does it look like I could make it up the stairs without relying on the ability to move silently?

[fyleisch]

He seems to have retired to his room. He probably won't hear Excrucius climbing the stairs, but if the gnome starts moving around near the the large rooms there is an even chance he will be heard by anyone inside them.

[Chilimaggot]

He seems to have retired to his room. He probably won't hear Excrucius climbing the stairs, but if the gnome starts moving around near the the large rooms there is an even chance he will be heard by anyone inside them.

Excrucius will casually lean against a wall at the bottom of the stairs to look like he's just relaxing. He casts Ghost Sound to make some shuffling sounds near the top, outside the door, which he'll dismiss if a door opens.

Bluff to look casual [roll0]

[fyleisch]

The sourceless sound of shuffling feet passes unnoticed in the night. The halfling and dwarf are both sitting by the fire - the dwarf drawing on a long pipe, and the halfling waxing a bow string. Neither turn to see his expert display of nonchalance.

[Chilimaggot]

Very well. He will proceed up the stairs to poke around. First he'll inspect any open rooms. Then he will proceed to check the closed doors.

If an angry tenant comes out to question him, he'll say "Apologies. Thought this was my room."

[fyleisch]

The three rooms the innkeeper told the caravan team about are all unlocked, and all in more or less the same condition - clean, basic, with thin, worn bedclothes. Of the two larger rooms, both are locked, but the one on the right seems to be emanating an unpleasant odor, a smell Excrucius knows well from his days in the arena; exhaustion and death.

When he quietly tries the door to the room, he finds the wood damp, as if it had been recently scrubbed clean.

If anyone noticed him trying the doors, they didn't react to it.

[Chilimaggot]

Right. He'll creep back down and go to the dwarf. "There's a corpse in one of the upstairs rooms." he'll say. "I know the smell. This place is not safe. We should leave. Or sleep with blades in our hands. I'm amenable to either."

[fyleisch]

The dwarf is giving Excrucius the same look he had when the gnome was shouting at the figure by the road, a look of extreme skepticism.

The halfling however seems keenly interested. "A corpse? Let me see!"
He jumps up, almost eager, and skips across to where Excrucius is standing.
"I've never seen a dead body before. I want to look."

[Chilimaggot]

He shakes his head. "The door is locked, but recently cleaned and I. Recognize. The smell. I was around corpses my entire young life, in the arena. Once they've been in the sun long enough, I can even tell the species by the smell."

[fyleisch]

The halfling runs to his pack and fishes around for a moment, coming away with a small leather bundle.

"I might be able to get us in. See if you were right about him."

"Rubbish!" the dwarf mutters, pointing his pipe at the halfling. "Put that down, and sit down. We're not gonna go pokin' around, probl'y get us kicked out into the rain!"

The halfling looks to Excrucius. "Deciding vote? I say we check it out."

[Chilimaggot]

He sighs. "I probably won't get paid if I let you get your throat slit in the night like a fool. We're taking a look."

[fyleisch]

The halfling skips up the stairs impishly, his soft feet making almost no noise on the old wood. He leads Excrucius to the upper floor of the inn, and towards the two large rooms. He pauses for a moment, wondering which of the doors Excrucius meant, but he must have caught a whiff of the smell himself, as he quickly moves over to the door with the recently-cleaned handle.

He crouches, draws a pair of picks from the leather bundle, and gets to work on the lock.

He spends an agonizing five minutes fumbling with the room's simple lock, but blessedly he makes no loud noises in his attempts, and eventually, the lock gives a satisfying click. The halfling turns to face Excrucius with a gleeful grin and reaches for the handle, before pausing.

"Uh, let's let you go first," he whispers, backing out of the way. The halfling pulls a dagger out from somewhere, and holds it tightly in a reverse grip.

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius wordlessly opens the door.

[fyleisch]

Inside, Excrucius finds a much more luxurious room than the ones the caravan has been assigned. There's a richly dressed double bed, a wash stand in the corner, a chest, and even a pair of goat-skin rugs on the floor.

The room is spoiled, however, by the four bodies laid out on the floor. The bodies are of two human men, a grizzled looking dwarf woman, and an old halfling. All of them are wearing traveler's garb, and all but the halfling are wearing light weapons at their belts. None of the bodies seem to have a mark on them, except for the dwarf, who has a number of stab wounds on her arm and chest.

Excrucius hears the halfling gasp behind him, and he pushes past into the room. He walks over to the dwarf corpse and crouches, poking the corpse's side.

[Chilimaggot]

Excrucius bends and grabs one leg of the dwarf.
"Come, halfling. You may gather your corpseloot after we kill that damned innkeeper. We will take the corpse to the dwarf, if the dwarf will not come to the corpse. And if he is not yet one himself."

Is response to any protests, "The halfling would be easier to pull, but the dwarf is more convincing. Come."