Iron Crisis Part 2 (IC)

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 34/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: -- | -- Solemnly giving the elf a sympathetic look, Sam nods, deciding not to push him for now. The man needs time to process. "Sure, Sen'," but with Vala outside on watch, Sam takes it upon himself to deal instead. He attempts to teach them the rules to Caravan, but the game seems to be an almost arcane mystery to everyone - except, apparently, to Sam. Maybe that's how he beat Grepha at cards years ago.

[Amnestic]

You pass the afternoon with a quiet card game. Ralaar proves to be an abysmal player, apparently even lacking any sort of beginner's luck, and fails out at every game, even ones that you try to go easy on him with. If this affects his mood any, it doesn't show. He just keeps playing the cards mechanically. There's a grasp of the rules, insomuch as he doesn't need to be corrected on them, but he simply fails to play them 'well'. He thanks Caelyn for the food, though it's obligation more than sincerity, and no smile creases his features. It's hard for it not to bring down the mood somewhat, which wasn't great to begin with after the sudden betrayal and grisly scenes below. At the very least you can take some solace in it not being a deliberate act on Ralaar's part. There's no malice or attention seeking in his attitude. He simply is this way now, a grim reminder that you'll not be on time for everyone.

With that sobering thought lingering in your minds, night eventually falls. A warm summer's night, a cool reprieve from the scorching heat of the day. It's hard not to see that Vala's somewhat distant from it all, keeping to herself, but any concerns expressed in her direction just get waved off with a detached "It's nothing, just a bit tired."

It seems like she wasn't entirely untruthful, since the next morning (thankfully less scorching and merely 'warm') she's up and about early fixing breakfast as per usual, diligently serving out a fruity porridge first thing.

Once any final goodbyes are said to the melancholic, broken Ralaar you head back the way you came, away from the desecrated cellar and mad experiments of the Red Wizards. Now first-hand knowledge of the trail allows you to dodge around any would be attackers or interference with your path, allowing you to make it back to the bandit camp otherwise unscathed. Upon reaching the bandit camp, one of the guards hails you over. "Yer back quicker than expected." It's hard to pick out if he's praising you, suspicious of you, or just stating a fact. "Didn't see Loog on yer way, did ya? Disappeared not long after you left, said he was 'going hunting' and never came back."

Spoiler: OOC

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Long rest get. Just in case it's not clear, you've been gone less than three days - you set off on the 14 Flamerule morning, arrived early evening 16 Flamerule.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- In the evening: Senna joins the card game and her excitement to finally somewhat understand the game is severely dampened by Ralaar not relaxing. It was understandable after all, so she left the elf to think for himself. Before going to bed, Senna took aside Caelyn and Melian. Maybe it is best we prepare to fight Tenhammer and the weird wizard tomorrow. Maybe even the whole bandit camp if we cannot avoid it. Spoiler Show Senna goes along the lines of Bane to debuff saves, Hold Person to lock down Tenhammer and straight damage plus a Silence spell for the wizard whose name I forgot. Back with the bandits: Is that so? Senna answers to no one in particular. She hoped he stayed true to his promise to leave and never come back, but part of her doubted that sentiment. All she could gauge now was if this guard believed Loog. Senna would have fabricated a story about an abandoned shack with a small band of wannabes that were quickly cleared out, but lying wasn't her forte. Like at all. Back home Gorion could seemingly tell every minor lie she did, so she all but abanoned her attempts at lying. Besides their bandages and superficial injuries would make her lie less believable. A bit helpless she looks at Sam. I believe our boss should tell you the story. she said finally, pushing his position within their ragtag team further Spoiler Show Help action for whatever roll Sam attempts. 21 to Insight vs. the bandit guard

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 34/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: -- | -- Stepping forward and sniffing, Sam retorts to the bandit guard, "Hunting? Alone? Out here?" he scoffs a little. "Probably dead. Anyway, we ran into some lycanthropes out there. Maybe your guys heard Malarite chanting. Cleared the ruins out, so they shouldn't give us trouble," He tells a half-truth and rolls up the sleeves and undoing his leather bracers to display his arms to the guard, "No bites either. None of us are about to go wolf on you." Putting his bracers back on, he flicks his arms to fling the sleeves back out. "Don't recommend anyone dig around the ruins now. We used a couple'a sonic spells clearing it out and the stonework looked about ready to fall in on the place." Spoiler: Rolls Show Deception if needed: (1d20+4)[9] (1d20+4)[9]

[Amnestic]

The guard sniffs, then tuts. "Blighter owed me five gold. He kicks at a loose stone in irritation. "Wouldn't be my decision either way where we go would it? Don't need to tell me. Bosses make that decision. Get your gear settled then go see 'em. Closest big tent in the middle." He thumbs towards the centre of the camp, before waving you on through, evidently satisfied with that you hadn't seen Loog, and not really listening to your talk about the ruins.

The campsite is much as you left it a few days past - people milling around, drinking, chatting amiably, the occasional arm wrestle or dice game sending up cheers or groans from onlookers. Positively peaceful, were it not for the knowledge they are murdering, slaving bandits. Still, there is a small glimmer in that you know they're only a few days from destruction now.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- You know I still doubt these were true lycanthropes, boss. But the story looses so much oomph when you talk about not-quite-lycanthropes-but-close. I don't really care either way, I am glad there were no broken bones or similar. Out blade mistress back here is an elusive one. Senna points at where Melian stood.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 34/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: -- | -- Walking past the guard, Sam looks over his shoulder and shrugs casually at Senna. "I ain't blind, I know they weren't wolves. Don't know the fancy scientific name for whatever they were though. What's the bear one, an ursathrope or something?" He makes his way towards the command tent to make his report.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Not any old shapeshifter's cursed. Senna protests playfully. And it's an arktothrope.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee stays silent in the camp, as is her way, but she can't help but roll her eyes and giggle a bit at Sam and Senna's back and forth.

[Amnestic]

Once Rosc Roche is settled in, you head to the boss' tent.

The central guards, slightly more diligent than the ones at the main gates, wave you through without a word. Passing through the tent flap, you're struck immediately that it is much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside. What was perhaps fifteen or twenty feet long outside is closer to seventy feet inside. It's opulent, with large ornate, foreign-looking carpets strewn across the base of the tent. A grand fire pit in the centre illuminates the room, and beyond that an empty throne sits opposite you, flanked by lion skin rugs. To your left, a rack of wine bottles, a writing desk, bookshelf, an enormous bed, and a prisoner – an elf man - manacled to an large iron ball. He seems unconscious, or at least unresponsive, as he doesn't look up when you enter.

To your right are some chests and containers, and in the back corner a table piled high with food. Six chairs rest around the table, though only three are filled. Tenhammer you've already met, but with him is a hobgoblin in half-plate and a gnoll dressed in furs. Venkt is absent, for better or worse. Their conversation seems casual, but tense. Their weapons – Tenhammer's maul, a longbow for the hobgoblin, and a glaive for the gnoll – are all within arms reach, ready at a moment's notice. Tenhammer looks over you as you enter, beckoning your approach and leaning back in his chair, relaxed but not lazy.

“New recruits.” Tenhammer begins by way of introduction. His voice is level, neither praising nor scathing. Judgement, it seems, is being reserved for what information you deliver. He gestures with one hand lazily to the others with him. “Ardenor Crush, leader of the Chill, and his lieutenant Britik. Report on the ruins, leave nothing out.” The gnoll Britik doesn't seem to pay you any mind, continuing his ravenous consumption of food on the table, but Ardenor - steely golden eyes flashing against his red skin – sets down a wine goblet and glares at you, assessing every move and word.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- With the air of panicked calm, Senna stepped forward, always conscious about her skin suddenly feeling incredibly cold. She hoped she wouldn't show fear in front of a humanoid hyena. But she was sure he could smell it. Travel was very straight forward thanks to our great tracker. We met a weird forest spirit, which we didn't really mind that much, seeing as it was happy to ignore us after a while. We continued about half a day again until we got to the ruins you allowed us to investigate. Not sure but it seemed like a druidic burial grounds to me. Odd, since Malar isn't big on burying people, but more in favor of eating their victims. With that, her eyes sway over to the gnoll, as she checks its reaction. Still, we fought something I can only identify as their henchmen, and a handful of ferocious beasts. Blessed by their sinister patron, we had to deal with a bull, a lion and a bear. Each larger than Tenhammer here. We are lucky our friend here has abs harder than steel, and punches just as hard, or else we would not be here today. Checked the grounds and found a few things. These kinds of druids mostly go naked, plus an odd conglomerate of weird magic items. A decent payment I'd say considering the danger we were in. Senna nudges her brother. He was gonna tell you they were lycanthropes. And they wish they were, but they're just exotic druids. Kinda like comparing werehyenas and the noble gnoll over there. Senna adds somewhat in (earnest) disgust.

[Amnestic]

Britik doesn't even seem to be listening, but the two leaders eyes are on Senna, tearing each word apart with their implacable gaze. “I believe that if you ask ten people 'What happened?' you will get twelve different answers." Tenhammer says slowly. He doesn't question what she's said, but nor did he nod along to it or otherwise give any other indication of acceptance. Ardenor finally speaks up, his gravelly tone scraping against the common tongue. "So the rest of you get on with telling us what you thought happened. In your own words, no 'just as they said' or 'they covered it' trash." He drains his goblet an slams it to the table with a bang. "We don't have all day."

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 34/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: -- | -- Doing his best to keep up a poker face through Senna's far too detailed web of lies. The first rule of lying is to keep it simple... but all he can do is hook his thumbs in his belt loops and do his best to give his own rendition. "Dunno if I'd call it a 'forest spirit,' but eh, a spirit in the forest's a forest spirit I guess. Some kinda blind old beggar half dragon, think he was a ghost," he makes a small shrug, "I try not to get angry ghosts on my tail, so we left it be and moved on." "Down at the ruins we found some kinda old fort where that chanting was coming from. Inside we found some creepy guys with tattoos turning this guy into a ****ing... I dunno. It was some kind of giant with three heads, a lion, a bull and a bird. Dunno how you mistake a bird for a bear," with a shake of his head, he clicks his tongue a little bit in thought. "There was an empty room full of coffins. But the foundations were kinda screwed after we blew it to hell with sonic spells trying to kill the giant, so we looted the stuff the creeps had on 'em and came back."

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee's eyes widen when she hears Senna start lying in the extreme. She wasn't expecting the truth, but it seemed awful unnecessary to lie THAT much, and about things there was no need to disguise. She forces herself not to react beyond that, but a bead of sweat falls from her temple as he mind struggles to come up with a complimentary story. Fortunately, Sam steps in, taking the same path Caelyn planned to- MOSTLY true, but keeping the right things hidden. When he finishes, she attempts to do the same. Like he said, we met a ghost or spirit of a half-dragon or something like it. It warned us that the ruins and the surrounding forest were the territory of a green dragon, so we were very careful on our approach. We saw the dragon flying right before we got to the ruins, so you may want to avoid the area unless you're prepared to fight for it. She took a breath before continuing. We also came across a cave with some sort of shapeshifters in it. Killed them. Don't think there will be more. Then we moved on to the ruins. I don't think the tattooed casters were Malarites. I can't pretend to be an authority on their sect of druidism, but they came across as arcane casters to me. Then again, if someone saw me throw a fireball, they'd probably think the same thing, so who knows? Killed the casters, killed the big bird-bull-lion giant monster, killed some underlings. Burned them up. She attempts to add a maniac grin at that part, even though it reminded her of her volcanic episode and made her feel sick to her stomach (and excited in a way she was not at all comfortable with). Looted some gear, torched the rest, and made our way back. The place is clean now, if you don't mind a lot of soot, but like our face said the damage was extensive. The giant monster chewed through stone walls like they were made of sugar. I may have also gone a bit overboard with the firepower. She gives a noncommittal shrug, as though to indicate she didn't really think there was such a thing as too much firepower. And inwardly she prayed they would be convincing enough to get out of this tent alive.

[Amnestic]

“We're aware of the dragon." Tenhammer notes, though not dismissively. “Plans are being made to deal with it." Ardenor chuckles maliciously as he refills his goblet with more wine, but any elaboration on these plans goes unspoken, for now at least. “Continue."

"Whoever it was that was there," Vala adds as a final comment, “they seemed to have been there for some time. Even though we destroyed most of the materials, the effects of their residence could still be in effect. Magic tends to...seep into things." The frowns deepen on both leaders of the bandits. They share a silent conversation of looks and scowls, one born out of experience in dealing with the other, even if not pleasantly. “You should've sent Venkt." Ardenor spits at Tenhammer, finally breaking the silence, but the armoured man waves off the assertion casually. “He'd have only slowed everything down." He speaks over any further objections from Ardenor, practically ignoring him into irrelevance as the hobgoblin gets more irate, instead directing his voice back to you once more. “Bottom line: Are the ruins now safe for us to move camp or not?"

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 34/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: -- | -- "I'm worried the structure below would collapse under the weight of your own numbers and fortifications," Sam advises, and not entirely dishonestly. A part of him regrets they hadn't thought to house their elf at the tree cave instead so they could sinkhole the bandit camp. "And the fortifications already there are almost worthless. They're more full of holes than Amnish cheese." "There is a tree along the path to the fort with a cavern beneath it, one we used for shelter. The roots are old and sturdy," holding out a hand, he motions at the tent around them. "It would make a sturdy command center to build a camp around."

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Senna looks at her siblings correcting her. Maybe it was a bit too much needless lies, but she wasn't sure if they didn't ask their brigands to verify. Regardless she added. Just so you know, caves are never not occupied. We shooed a bear out of there, and by the time we reach it there may be other critters checking by. At the notion of the decrepit wizard, Senna visibly winces. Are you sure the oldtimer would not fold from the wind blowing in his face? I'm sure his powers are formidable but he looks really not like the sturdiest fellah.

[Amnestic]

“Shut up, child." Ardenor snaps at Senna. “When we want your opinion we'll ask for it. You're here to report on what occurred, nothing more." Any hopes that Tenhammer might step in to defend you quickly fizzles, as the Blacktalons boss quietly ruminates on what he's been told. After a few moments he taps an armoured finger on the table in thought, the light metallic tapping a soft urge for any further argument to cease, speaking up over any further words being issued. “This is disappointing news but you can't be blamed for it. Unless you have any more information you're dismissed. Your reward will be delivered later this evening, since you did complete the task requested." He waves a hand in dismissal in by now typical manner of one who doesn't expend more effort on words than absolutely necessary. Ardenor glowers at Tenhammer but doesn't say anything else, instead grumbling quietly as he retrieves a piece of parchment from nearby. Caelyn, barely, makes it out as a map - likely of the surrounding area.

Spoiler: Caelyn Survival Herb Gathering

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Caelyn locates some Valerian root and lavender both. Enough to dose a dozen people with drowsiness, though exactly how she plans to do that remains to be seen.

She also finds a single Weeping Death flower in bloom, which is sufficient to dose one person with the (often deadly) poison, either via ingesting or topical application of oil to skin.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Senna's hands cramp around her belt, not getting white from the strain as she is too weak to seriously do that. Instead, you can see her pressing her lips together, as the cleric feels the urge to utter magical curses and more, but she keeps herself restrained. His day will come. is the only thing Senna can think of right now. She leaves the tent prematurely and does give it a wide step around before retreating to an emptier corner of the camp to wait for her siblings.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelyn waits for Senna to leave, then inclines her head in a slight bow to the bandit leaders before following her out. She had work to do- grinding the natural poisons she intended to use to destroy these criminal scum.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 34/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: -- | -- With a small salute towards the bosses, Sam strolls out after his sisters. Outside, he glances up to the sky anxiously, wondering how far out Grepha and the Fist are. It seems their quarry might be moving soon. Once they're back at their area of camp, he stretches and breathes out a heavy sigh. "Ah, those guys sure know how to spook a room."

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Senna shoots Sam an annoyed look. Last time maybe. But not this time. Intimidation looses a lot of its luster if overused. Without Venkt, the bunch seems a lot less dangerous all of a sudden. Senna scans the camp. Aside from their commanders, these men and women just look like run of the mill villains. Each one vile to the bone, but none more competent than Kagain.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee sets to work grinding flowers, seeds, and herbs, putting each one into it's own vial, some of them without using her hands, instead using a small funnel and tweezers. We need to start keeping watches while we sleep. I'll not be caught unaware if any of them decide the best way to get the truth out of us is torture. She emptied the funnel into a vial and then ran water through it to prevent any of the Weeping Death from getting on her hands. I have enough hibiscus seeds to give twelve people the runs, enough sedative to give twelve people the yawns, and one dose of deadly poison. Any of those can be doubled by my mandrake root. Anyone have any ideas on how to implement these poisons? And Sam, any word on how long Grepha will be away? I think it's high time we start preparing for what comes next.

[Amnestic]

Less than an hour after you leave the central tent, though not by much, one of the guard ogres plods its way over to you holding an ornate staff with one hand and a thick wooden chest in the other. "From bosses, payment and bonus," he says, gesturing to chest and staff in order. He places them down, then wanders back towards the loot pile without any further words, leaving you to your thoughts. The chest contains a significant some of gold coins, and the staff is clearly magical in some manner. The other bandits look over curiously at the reward, but none make a move to get a cut of it for themselves. No matter how greedy they might be it seems there's still some discipline being delivered in the camp. You are left well enough alone. For now.

Spoiler: OOC/Loot

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Grepha can be expected in 1-2 days.

Chest contains: 1000gp

The Uncursed Staff
When you hold this staff in at least one hand your strength score is set to 18. However, any attack and damage rolls you make that would use Strength do not apply your ability score modifiers.

Spoiler: Lore. DC14 History to know:

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Decades ago, an adventuring priest of Gond discovered a cursed staff in a dungeon. Despite its curse, the staff was a well-crafted and fine-looking weapon, and the priest sought a way to lift the curse. Though he was never able to do so, he was able to add an enchantment to the staff, mostly negating its cursed properties and allowing him to carry it and put it away as desired. Though the staff was little better than a regular weapon, the priest carried it the rest of his days, as it boosted his ability to carry treasure out of subsequent dungeons.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 34/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: -- | -- "I think..." Sam looks up at the sky in thought, though still keeps his voice low to avoid being overheard. "She should be a day or two out now." The half-dragon frowns a little as he thinks over Caelyn's question. "I'm not really an expert at that kind of thing. As long as we make sure the slaves don't get poisoned by mistake."

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: All of my herbs can be delivered through food. Therefore, I'm going to find out who does the cooking for each camp. Perhaps one of you can make a distraction and I can slip something special into the meals served a few hours before the Fist arrives. I will endeavor not to poison the slaves, Sam, but if some of them have to get diarrhea to secure their freedom I won't lose any sleep. She affixes the vials to the loops on her medicine pouch, memorizing their order, before standing. "Anyone want to join me for an investigation of whatever stands in for a mess tent around here?"

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- I don't want to rope Vala into this, but she should help in the kitchen anyh... Senna pauses in her misogynistic rant and blushes heavily. I mean, I mean not because you're a woman. But because... Senna covers her red face in her hands. She takes a few breathers before continuing. If Vala does the food, she can make sure it is good and we don't get the wrong kind. As Sam adds in the issue with the slaves, she rubs her chin. That IS a problem. Diarrhea might not be an issue for a healthy person, but it can be dangerous for sick or exhausted slaves. We would have to decide to maybe just use the sleeping poison. Better yet, do we have a way to delay the moving of the camp? Or a way to guide Grepha to the ruins? Spoiler Show Medicine 27 to gauge whether the poison is strong enough to REALLY cause an issue with exhausted prisoners.

[Amnestic]

Vala doesn't seem to understand the underlying, quickly retracted potential implication from Senna, tilting her head in confusion. Instead her mind seems to have jumped to the endpoint - she's a trained chef, it makes sense. "Sure, if I can help, just point me at what needs doing."

Caelyn, and any who go with her, find that the 'mess tent' doesn't actually seem to exist. An inquiry about food sets them in the northwest corner of the camp, which seems dedicated to the slave workers. You spy seven in total, though only five tents. Whether there's more sleeping in the tents isn't clear, but regardless there seems to be too little shelter for the men and women that are dressed in rags and bound at the ankles. None look particularly healthy, with movements sluggish and lacking any precision. Three are to the south, adjacent to the western gate watchers, working the forge and anvil, repairing old equipment and making new swords or arrows from whatever old metal they have. The other four are clustered around a fire and some tables, carving animal carcasses and slicing vegetables. Judging by the smell, a meat stew, though given the way the pot is being filled it's less one meat and more whatever they can find - a true perpetual stew if there ever was one. Bowls are stacked on the tables, along with thickly (and poorly) cut wooden spoons. Empty, for now. Unless called on, they do not look at you. In fact they actively avert their eyes, flinching away in fear. Barely healed cuts and bruises evident frequent beatings, and there's little reason to believe it's only the 'monstrous' Chill doing it.

They're not kept watch on directly, per se, but the guards of the western and northern gates are close enough that they're never really out of eyeline or earshot. There's gaps though, which you can intuit without much issue - when the guards change shift, or when they're just paying attention to something else, the lack of dedicated watchers leaves openings, or the freedom to converse quietly. There's enough traffic back and forth for food that merely approaching isn't an issue, but lingering may be another matter entirely.

Spoiler: Senna Medicine

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The short answer is yes. Depending on how exhausted they are and the severity of the condition (which will likewise depend on the dose given and natural immunity, potentially diminished due to exhaustion) it could pose a lethal threat to any slaves (or other exhausted fellows) who happen to consume it.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee surveys the eating area- or lack thereof- with disappointment. This would not be easy or convenient as she hoped. She doesn't linger long, feeling the roving eyes of the guards on her back, joining the que and getting a bowl of mystery stew to avoid any undue attention. She takes it back to their campsite, sits down, and begins to choke down the low quality food one bite at a time. It won't be easy, but if any of you can make a distraction I might be able to slip something in. It's obvious that the commanders aren't eating this sludge. I need to find out where they get their meals, as that would be the best way to use the lethal poison. That or the ogres. They might be easy to trick into eating the deadly stuff. If we DO poison the communal pot we'll have to get a message to the slaves not to eat that day. Probably won't go over to well with them considering the conditions, but I still think it is our best bet for evening the odds. She sets the bowl of stew aside with a sour look on her face. One day, maybe two. That's not much time to prepare. Anyone come up with any stunningly brilliant battle plans while I was gone? I nominate myself for hidden heavy artillery duty. I can drop thunderbolts down on their heads while taking the form of a squirrel in a tree, and for minutes at a time. She looks to her family and Vala for suggestions, hopefully at least to where they saw themselves being most effective in the coming fight.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentration: -- Senna has learned not to refuse a free meal, but this was hardly what she called good. We may consider poisoning the alcohol, but I think the people here hardly get any. Another thing though, completely unrelated. Should I ask for access to the slaves? To make sure they are actually in a condition to flee? Argumentation should be easy. Healthy slaves fetch way more money, and I did say I was a healer in the first place. Could also make them pay more attention to my ministrations than Caelyn's "cookery". Maybe Vala has a few of her great 'cookies' or whatever they are. They are great.